


Ring of Fire

by EmyBunny, SilenceNorth



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Brainwashing, F/M, Lots of Angst, Slow Burn, Torture, the eclipse are back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-29 08:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmyBunny/pseuds/EmyBunny, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceNorth/pseuds/SilenceNorth
Summary: They thought they were going on a simple mission, but when events beyond their power unfold, they realize that they've gotten into something much bigger than the two of them.A story set in the world of Horizon: Zero Dawn, three years after the Battle for the Spire. Includes two original characters, Aneta and Kiln.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, but you’re the first Shadow Carja to try and fit in with us Oseram,” he said. “Though I guess you aren’t Shadow Carja anymore.” He placed his pipe into his mouth again, turning his gaze from her.
> 
> Aneta had a nasty feeling in her stomach now and it wasn’t from the alcohol. She gave a grunt of distaste. “I’m not living down that title anytime soon, huh?”
> 
> “You just started,” he told her. “Give it some time.”

She was told that after the first week, things would get easier. Of course, this came with many issues of trying to fit in with the other rowdy men and women recruits. She had to keep up with their high tolerance of alcohol and their constant need to get into unneeded fights. They reminded her of children who had been set loose onto the world.

Despite what she had been promised, Aneta just didn’t feel as if she belonged within this group. She was not of Oseram heritage and she never would be. She was Carja through and through, with her near fragile nature – compared to the brutes that she was now calling her fellow comrades. She was not good at holding her drink, she was much smaller than an Oseram, and her skin was by far darker than theirs. She had the typical undereye tattoos that was common within the Carja society and it was one of the many reasons she stood out within the Vanguard recruits.

Still, she trained and performed just as the others, determined to prove that she could be there. Sometimes they would ask her why she hadn’t just joined the Carja Guard. Why didn’t she stay with  _ her _ people? Why did she have to try to be Oseram? Her answer was always simple, but it seemed to be unconvincing; she didn’t want to be trapped within the perimeters of Meridian.

The Captain of the Vanguard, Erend, had told her that she could stay if she worked hard enough. She remembered how he had dropped a large hand onto her shoulder and offered a kind smile. He said she would make a good fighter.

Later she was proved to be better with a bow than a warhammer. She wasn’t quite strong enough to wield one yet. Her Carja physique certainly was not as well-set as her comrades. She did not have the bulging arms or powerful legs. She was slender and the Vanguard armor made it hard to move.

She was, however, quicker than her companions. During training, she found that she was always in the front of the line during runs or climbs. But she still couldn’t take a blow very well. Unlike most of the Oseram, she fell flat on her ass if anyone hit her during sparring. She had been left with many bruises that flared up unlike those of her comrades.

In attempt to ignore these small setbacks, she found herself joining them in drink. Whether it be going to the taverns and bars, or sitting inside the barracks with a barrel of beer.

Within the following months, she grew stronger to the training, she began to handle her drink a little better. She was able to hold a hammer – though not for as long as her comrades. She adjusted to the feel of the heavy Oseram amour, despite its almost itchy feel and the way the leather chaffed her skin.

She had been within Vanguard training for three months when one of the Vanguard men suggested she get a tattoo that would match theirs. At first, she was hesitant, but after several pints of beer and ale, she agreed to it. With unfocused eyes and a slur to her words, she sat back against a wooden chair as a heavy-set man with a bald head and a thick beard began to prepare the mixture of ink.

Aneta sat there as the others joined in on jokes and laughter while a needle was poked into her skin repeatedly. They kept up the good nature and Aneta found herself much more relaxed than she thought she would be in an instance like this. For once, she felt accepted. She would be one of them.

She’d been tattooed before, under her eyes, so the pain of getting her shoulder tattooed was nothing compared to that. Her hesitance had simply been in having the mark of a clan she wasn’t sure she would be accepted into. But here she was, getting the blue tattoo designs that nearly all of her companions shared.

When the tattoo was complete, the barracks lit up into hollers of happiness and cheers of welcoming, as if this were a ceremony that deemed her as one of them. She was clapped on the back and her untattooed shoulder was squeezed. Her short hair was ruffled up by hands and she was once taken into a choke hold that she’d learned was pretty much a hug by the men. She had never grinned so much in her life.

It was perhaps the last initiation into the Vanguard.

The following weeks were much easier, filling with easy conversation that she was becoming used to. The Oseram did everything differently to the Carja, but they had become a new family to her. She felt more and more safe around them as time passed.

When she was finally apart of the actual Vanguard – no longer a training recruit – she found herself feeling more prideful of herself. She fit in somewhere. She was part of the Vanguard and she had friends she could trust.

She befriended many of the men and women within the Vanguard, hoping to make herself seem as friendly as they all were. She joined in on more drinking sessions and made herself available whenever a mission was brought into light.

Aneta adjusted to the rowdy humor of her comrades and had begun using it for her own. She was training herself to not be the quiet little Carja woman she had arrived as. Many took notice of this and she was welcomed with Oseram hospitality. Which was just more drinking and rough claps on the back. She became a sort of pet for a while before she put herself out there as being just as strong as them.

She turned twenty after having only been in the actual Vanguard for two months. At first she didn’t mention her birthday, instead tempted to spend it with her mother – though that wouldn’t have ended well, considering that her mother was still sour from the death of her husband. The fact that she had a daughter who had joined the very guards who had gone against the Shadow Carja was not something she was very proud of.

Halfway through the day, however, she had accidentally spilled that it was her birthday to one of the men and what resulted from that was the declaration of a celebration. There were cheers of agreement and Aneta knew they were just using this as another excuse to get wasted. Still, she agreed to it.

They went to a bar on the outskirts of Brightmarket. The rowdy bunch seemed to discourage other people from entering the bar, but the owners didn’t seem to mind. Having Oseram there was sure to give them plenty of business, as the lot would be buying  _ plenty _ of drinks.

Aneta sat around a table with a bunch of her comrades, sipping at her pint of ale as they all shared stories about when  _ they _ had turned twenty – most of them perhaps even twice her age now. A lot of the stories were either horror or comical, though there was a type of laughter that filled the air even when the horror stories were shared.

A quarter of the way into their celebration, Erend and another man arrived. Aneta looked over at the two, her cheeks flushed from both alcohol and realizing that the captain of the Vanguard had decided to join them. Erend called out that he’d buy everyone a round of drinks, seeming joyous for the celebration. The bar burst into cheers and hollers, which Aneta joined in with laughter. Erend tipped a mug of ale her way with a nod and she gladly cheered with him, clanking her mug against his before the two began to chug.

After that, the celebration continued on. Aneta kept glancing over at the man Erend had brought with him, who she knew as the second in command. He was a younger man, which was surprising, considering that there were probably older men who would be better equipped for the job.

She took in his appearance as he stood by the bar with Erend, the two of them seeming to be jesting each other. The man was tall and blond, with a long beard that he kept in a braid. He had a smile that had Aneta continuously looking over at him. She watched him push back his blond locks, that smile on his lips.

However, she was pulled back into conversation with the Oseram at her table. She joined in, hoping that she could keep her eyes off the blond man. It wasn’t long before she found herself ignoring him, in favor of joking around with her fellow Vanguard men and women.

She felt genuinely happy to be there. Though after a few hours, she found herself unable to drink anymore of the ale that was being practically thrown at her. She decided to take a break and step outside.

The cool air met her and she breathed a sigh of relief. Making her way to the other side of the building – towards the back where she would find some peace in case she threw up. She leaned heavily on the walls and tried to not stumble, but that seemed to be impossible in her current state of drunkenness.

She did, however, make it to her destination. But she was not alone. She groaned as she saw the blond man leaning against the back wall, a pipe in his hand. He looked almost amused by her sudden appearance, his eyebrows raised curiously.

“I was hoping to be alone,” she explained, though he hadn’t asked.

Still, she walked over and leaned against the wall, the gentle breeze coming off the lake making her feel less nauseous. The scent of the man’s tobacco also seemed to help, oddly enough. She had never been a smoker herself, though she certainly considered it at times when her comrades tried to peer pressure her into it.

“Can’t hold your ale very well, can you?” the man teased, a puff of smoke leaving his lips.

“I’ve had beer, ale, and mead.” She held up her hand and counted off on her fingers. “I’ve never mixed all of these before.”

He chuckled before holding out his hand. “I’m Kiln.”

“Aneta.” She took his hand with a firm grip, despite her drunkenness. She was starting to sober up with the cool night’s air.

“Ah, you’re the new girl Erend has been bragging about,” a smirk grew on Kiln’s face, his eyes flickering over her features.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Bragging? I’m nothing special.”

“Yeah, but you’re the first Shadow Carja to try and fit in with us Oseram,” he said. “Though I guess you aren’t Shadow Carja anymore.” He placed his pipe into his mouth again, turning his gaze from her.

Aneta had a nasty feeling in her stomach now and it wasn’t from the alcohol. She gave a grunt of distaste. “I’m not living down that title anytime soon, huh?”

“You just started,” he told her. “Give it some time.”

She pursed her lips, considering this. Time. She had plenty of it now that she wasn’t living in Sunfall, constantly afraid that one slip up could get her killed. Here she was safe and with friends. Here she could have a normal life, without the guilt of what she had been raised as. Here she could make herself something new.

“So,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “What are  _ you _ doing out here? No longer enjoying the fun?”

He chuckled. “Sometimes I like to smoke alone.”

She hummed as she scuffed her boot on the ground, kicking a pebble away. “Hope you don’t mind if I stay. I don’t feel like going back inside yet.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Can’t deny the birthday girl anything, after all. I’m a proper gentleman.” This last bit was a tease towards her, which she snorted at.

“There isn’t a single Oseram who’s a gentleman,” she threw back, crossing her arms under her chest, which caused her breasts to push up slightly. She told herself she wasn’t doing that on purpose, but that would be a lie. “You’re all brutes.”

He placed a hand on his chest, feigning insult. “You wound me. I am a perfect gentleman. Just not like your typical  _ Carja _ gentleman.”

“Are there other ways to be a gentleman?” she raised her eyebrows at him, pretending to be surprised. “Please, enlighten me.”

“Well, that would require  _ you _ to be a lady,” he playfully shot back.

She pulled herself away from the wall to instead step in front of him. She took his pipe from his mouth, pressing her other hand to the wall beside him as she placed the mouthpiece of the pipe between her lips. The deep amber pools of her eyes bore into his of forest green.

Taking a drag from his pipe, she held it within her mouth instead of pulling it into her lungs – nervous that the smoke might make her cough and ruin her attempt at being alluring. She held the smoke in her mouth for a moment before blowing it into his face, having to tilt her head up to do so.

He was much taller than her, making it nearly impossible for her to be imitating in any sort of way. He seemed to take notice of this, a smirk tugging at his lips. Still he was impressed with her tenacity.

“That’s too bad,” she purred, putting his pipe back into his mouth, which he accepted without hesitation. She gave a small tug on his beard. “It looks like I’ll have to learn what a proper gentleman is from someone else.”

With this, she pulled herself away from him and began walking away. However, he cleared his throat and spoke before she could leave.

“Why don’t you stay for a bit?”

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes meeting his. They looked at each other for a moment before Aneta turned back and joined him once more. They leaned against the wall of the tavern, the smell of both the lake and Kiln’s tobacco making its way into Aneta’s senses, causing her to feel somewhat dazed.

“I suppose you wouldn’t want to show an unladylike woman a good time?” she said, turning a teasing smile his way. “It’s my birthday, after all.”

He hummed thoughtfully, though seemed amused. “Perhaps you should go back to your friends if you’re looking for a real good time. I’m afraid you won’t want to hang out with an old geezer like me.”

Aneta stared at him for a moment before she realized he was serious. He just turned her down. Wow. She didn’t realize that would happen. She blinked several times as she adjusted to this before pulling a personal flask from her belt. She took a heavy drink from it.

“I’m pretty sure you aren’t much older than me,” she shot back with a laugh. “Though the beard makes you look  _ ancient _ .”

He feigned insult, but was quick to throw back his own insult. “And you look like a young man.”

That wasn’t something she hadn’t heard before, thanks to her androgynous features. Still, she was attractive and the delicate nature of her undereye tattoos indicated feminine traits. But she  _ did _ look like a young boy in most tribes – other than the Carja. It didn’t sound much like an insult anymore, with how often it was used.

“I’m a very attractive young man, then.” She placed her hands on her full hips. Her shirt made her appear very straight bodied, when in fact she had more of an hourglass figure hidden under her clothes. Not that this jerk would ever see it. “The most attractive young man.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, a smile on both of their faces, though there was a new tenseness in the air that begged to be breached. Aneta didn’t take her eyes from him, daring him to say something that was contrary to her words - almost  _ hoping _ that he would.


	2. Chapter 2

Ancient! A brute! Kiln could hardly believe his ears. Erend had told him this one was a spitfire but he didn’t think a Carja woman would be so direct. They usually liked to beat around the bush, be passive aggressive, and never,  _ ever _ steal a man’s pipe right from his lips. He was very glad he decided to step out for a smoke when he did.

He crossed his arms over his chest, openly sizing the other Vanguard up. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. “Is that how you got into the Vanguard? Being an attractive boy? Or do you have a way to backup your claim?” He dumped the contents of his pipe onto the grass, snuffing it with a boot.

“I’m pretty damn good with a bow,” she announced, planting her fists on her hips, leaning towards him with a wide grin. “Better than most of the other recruits, anyway.”

This piqued his interests immensely, though he could smell the alcohol on her breath. He knew very few who could outshoot himself, and being the best archer in the group of Oseram was, until now, a boast he reserved for himself. “Really. Care to place some bets?”

“Against a geezer like you?” She scoffed. “Bring it on. But on one condition.” She lifted a finger, pressing it into the center of his chest. “You gotta catch up. I haven’t seen you drinking and it’d be an unfair challenge like this.”

Kiln emitted a laugh, a purely joyful sound when he realised that the Carja woman wasn’t only capable and lovely, but smart as well. “That sounds fair,” he admitted, taking out his own flask of brew. “Finish up in the pub, girl, you and I have a date on the firing range.”

He watched as she moved back into the establishment, greeted by a cheer of recognition by the other Vanguard. Apparently her return was a good reason for another round of drinks, and Kiln hoped Erend was as prepared with shards as he claimed, with all the rounds he was buying.

Kiln preferred his own brew as he preferred his own smoke, sharp and potent. He was openly surprised when the Carja girl managed to hold down what she’d taken from his pipe, only adding to his curiosity about her. She wasn’t what he was used to, for sure.

He was almost finished with the flask by the time he arrived at the firing range. He chased off a few of the newer recruits, ordering them to fetch his bow and a large cache of training arrows. Then he tasked them to make more, because he was about to wreck the ones they gave him. 

He was lighting one of the nearby torches when she arrived, her weapon already in hand. 

“The party still rages,” she told him. “Erend gave me tomorrow off. At this rate, he’s going to have most of the Vanguard puking all over the city in the morning.”

Kiln grinned boyishly, knowing it took a lot more than that to get an Oseram hung over, but he let her have the mental image. He toasted her with his flask, then upended it to show it was completely empty. “I’ve caught up,” he promised, knowing his voice was slightly slurred already. He handed her one of the quivers of target arrows. “Terms?”

She thought a moment, blinking slowly. From her pocket, she produced a flask not unlike his own. “Each bull’s eye, take a shot. Each miss…” She grinned. “Lose a piece of armor.”

Kiln barked laughter. They were evenly matched then, wearing the same Vanguard standard. “Sounds like a win/win situation!” he announced, sauntering up to the shooting line. He made a show of testing the wind, his stance in the dirt, the weight on his bowstring. She jeered at him to hurry, and he held up a hand. “Shhh. This is serious business, recruit. You be quiet or I report you for fraternization.” He was impressed with himself for getting the whole word out without laughing. Blowing a lock of shaggy blonde hair out of his eye, he nocked, drew, and let loose in a smooth motion. It  _ looked _ good, he knew, but whether or not he aimed well was to be determined. 

Sure enough, his arrow had hit its mark. He held out his hand expectantly, and Aneta huffed, slapping her flask into it. He took a quick shot, eyes bulging as he tasted what was within. “This is NOT normal brew,” he pointed out.

Aneta grinned at him. Despite her claims, it made her look terribly feminine, and he decided right then that he loved her smile. “It’s as old as I am,” she told him. “I’ve been saving it special, for my birthday.”

That she was sharing it with him was quite an honor, and Kiln was touched. He regarded the flask again and recapped it, watching the Carja woman step to the mark. She was a wisp of a girl, all limbs and wide eyes, but he could see the muscle in her when she drew her own bow. Her willowy frame told the story of speed and agility, so it wasn’t surprising to see her plant her missile right next to his on the target. He gave up his hold on the flask, but he was already feeling the potent mixture within settling in his bones. 

“At this rate, we’re going to run out of alcohol,” he told her, letting another arrow fly. It landed within target, but just barely. He squinted at the hit as she laughed, coming to stand next to him. She mimicked his first shot, blowing imaginary hair out of her eyes as she let fly. The arrow struck the center of his first, bursting it clean through.

“Hustler,” Kiln accused, eyes wide as he looked down at her. She lifted her chin with a smug smile of pride.  

“Looks like you’re missing a bulls-eye,” she pointed out. 

Kiln shrugged it off. “It’s fine. I shoot better without my gauntlets anyway.”

* * *

 

And so it went, this battle of archery and wits, until both were without the latter and the flask begun to run dry. Broken pieces of arrows littered the range, and they were both down to the bare minimum of clothing. Kiln retained his scarf in favor of his shirt, though she had chosen the opposite for her sacrifice. 

Aneta peered into the flask, bleary-eyed. So far, there’d only been a few misses, and only when they had gotten well into the liquor. At this point, Kiln admitted he could barely focus on the target. A few false starts prompted him to reconsider shooting. He didn’t want to risk hitting something that wasn’t the target, not down to two articles of clothing. That, and he was freezing. Nights in Meridian would often make one forget how hot it often got during the day. 

Aneta stood next to him expectantly, arms crossed over the soft cloth undershirt she wore under her armor. He lowered his bow, glancing at her with a wry, drunken smile.

“You look much less like a handsome boy now,” he told her.

“You’re procrastinating.”

“In fact, you’ve almost convinced me that I need to start acting like a gentleman.”

“Shoot, Kiln.”

“And gentlemen…. always…” Kiln shot, and the arrow went wide, missing the bullseye by a long margin. “Let the ladies win.”

She punched him in the shoulder with a gasp of protest. He feigned injury, hissing with pain. 

“Careful! There’s a reason I wear armor. How could you hit an old geezer like that?”

“Pants off.”

He sobered slightly. “Hey now.”

“You missed purposely. Pants off. I don’t care about your stupid scarf.”

Kiln grumbled darkly. A bet was a bet, and in the Vanguard, when bets are involved, military rank isn’t. “I  _ like _ these scarfs,” he muttered as he hooked his thumbs into the top of his pants. She was watching like a hawk, arms folded, but he wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest. He shoved his pants down, standing only in his undershorts. “Ta-da!” He announced with a wobbly grin. “You win! Drink it in, Carja!” He twisted, flexing a muscle. “FUCK it’s cold.”

She laughed at him heartily, her face flushed from the alcohol. “You drank my birthday juice,” she accused. “That should keep you warm enough.”

She stepped forward to take her shot. He admired her as he did every shot she took, his eyes dropping to her waist, the line of her spine as she drew her bow. When she shot and turned to look at him, he forgot to see where her arrow hit. By her smug expression, he figured she’d hit just where she wanted to.

“I missed,” she said, sauntering up to where he stood leaning against the barracks wall. He could only stare openly as her eyes half-closed, her hands moving to hook under her shirt. Suddenly he didn’t feel so cold, his eyes dropping to her nimble fingers as she drew the soft cotton up.

That’s when she fell headfirst into his arms, completely and utterly unconscious. Kiln froze, holding the woman in mild shock before he realized what had happened.

He laughed uproariously. “Carja,” he muttered in mock-annoyance, pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek before he hefted her up to take her to her cot in the barracks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seemingly amused at her standoffishness, Kiln couldn’t help but remember the look Erend had given him when he proposed the excursion. She certainly was an ember. He fell in behind her, letting her set the pace, and a few steps made it easy to place him next to his travel companion rather than behind. “Too bad the Nora’s not with us. I bet I could conquer one of those ravagers easily. We’d be riding to Sunfall in style.”  
> “Yeah, with you between its teeth,” she snorted. “I think I’ll keep my distance from any big machines, unless I absolutely have to fight them. Though, I think you’d make great bait while I made my escape. Tall, big and muscular, and ugly; the perfect target.”  
> “Irresistible,” he told her, digging around in his pack. “You forgot ‘irresistible’.”

She woke to an incredible headache that had her sighing loudly, placing a hand atop her forehead as it throbbed with a vengeance. Usually, she would blame the Vanguard for her ailment, but this was all her doing. She didn’t remember much of it, much to her chagrin, only that she had made a bet with a certain second-in-command that had involved drinking more and losing clothes. By the sun, was she the one to have pitched such a bet?

Sitting up, she glanced around the barracks, finding it empty. Oh, right. Erend had given her the day off. Shouldn’t she be somewhere else, though? Last night she had been determined to get into that blonde man’s bed. Kiln. That’s right, his name was Kiln. She really liked Kiln. He was funny and charming and well… absolutely gorgeous, in her opinion.

Shit. She felt like a little girl having her first crush. Hungover, nonetheless! Maybe that should be the only way to like a man; hungover and in pain. Sounding like something her mother would say.

Forcing herself up, Aneta pressed her hand against the stone wall next to her bed as she adjusted to the existence of gravity. The world shifted underneath her before settling, though it threatened to continue rocking her stomach. She worried she wouldn’t be able to get out the door fast enough if it decided to heave.

She groaned, realizing that she very much hated herself for getting that drunk. She knew better. Or at least, she should have by now.

Maybe it was a good thing that she hadn’t ended up back at Kiln’s. Did he have his own place? She would imagine he would, with his standing. Lucky bastard. He could have at least let her crash there instead of taking her back here.

He was the one to take her back here, right? She wished she could remember, but she just couldn’t. The last thing she remembered was complaining that her flask was getting low. That had been when she was still wearing her scarf and shoes, though. A lot could have happened during that time and how she had ended up in her bed.

Damn the bastard for not taking her to bed and letting her wake up to his mug. Maybe she wouldn’t have felt so sick if she had someone to endure this hangover with. It might have been nice to not wake up to the heavy heat of the day as her only companion.

With a loud huff, she pushed herself away from the wall and began getting dressed. No use wasting the rest of the day by sleeping this off. It was the only free day she was going to get for a bit, she was sure. Erend didn’t toss those out willy nilly.

Maybe she would go see her mother, if she couldn’t find anything else to capture her attention.

She didn’t adorn her usual armor for the day, instead pulling on a sleeveless tunic with a neckline that dipped down to her sternum. She ran a comb through her hair and slipped into her boots, releasing a held breath as she readied herself to step outside. She could do this. She would not throw up and she would be a productive member of society today. Or whatever that was…

As she headed towards the door, she was shocked when she turned the corner and bumped into someone, face first. It had her reeling for a moment, her hands going out to steady herself. Her lips parted to snap at the person, but her brown eyes flickered up and met Kiln’s. Oh. He was here. Why?

He was carrying two mugs of something hot, so when he bumped into Aneta, his first concern was for not trying to scald her. He grinned openly to see her up and about. “Good morning!” He cawed, handing over one of the mugs of what smelled like strong coffee. He looked refreshed, already bedecked in his own armor, shaggy blond hair captured in a man-bun. “No hard feelings over last night, right?” he prompted, looking her up and down. “I didn’t mean to so thoroughly thrash you on the range.”

His eyes settled on hers as he spoke, gauging her reaction to see just how much she’d remembered.

Her own eyes wide, Aneta held the mug of coffee in both hands. She took in a deep breath to steady herself, tearing her gaze away from him. The man-bun was cute, she thought.

Standing a little straighter, she cleared her throat. “Of course there’s no hard feelings,” she scoffed. “You really kicked my ass, though? Somehow I doubt that. Last thing I remember, I was the one winning.”

Heaving a mighty sigh, the second-in-command had to admit to his own lie. “Guess you recall it better than I’d hoped,” he admitted over a sip of his own coffee. It seemed he was much more reserved sober, but still seemed to appraise her with appreciation. “You’re quite a shot.” He gestured, inviting her to join him out of the barracks. “Thought I’d get the birthday girl breakfast. This morning’s already turning out to be a clusterfuck.” He paused as he turned to leave, reaching down for a pack he had up against the wall and slinging it over his back. “Shall we?” Apparently the concept of her refusing hadn’t crossed his mind.

She followed after him, careful to not spill her coffee. Usually she preferred it with cream, but it would help her hangover regardless. “Wait, why is today already a clusterfuck? What happened?” She attempted to keep up with him despite her shorter legs. Another thing that was difficult; she wasn’t a particularly tall woman and she noticed this more today than she had the previous night.

Kiln hesitated, perhaps as much at her question as the knowledge that opening the door to the barracks was going to unleash the sun, probably hurting her eyes. “Just some business out west I’ve got to deal with,” he told her. “Which is why I’m not at my station right now. Getting supplies for the journey.”

He opened the door to the bright sunshine outside, holding it for her and finding no small amount of sympathy for her condition. He’d always been a morning person… really an anytime person, which Erend often found abrasive. So long as he had his pipe, his flask, and someone to talk to, he was golden.

Squinting, Aneta tried to ignore the suddenly increased pounding of her head, instead opting to toss out a joke instead. “I thought you weren’t at your station because you were taking me to breakfast.” She smiled, pushing past the pain as she stepped out into the morning light. She took a long sip of her coffee then, finding that the aroma helped some of her pain.

“Caught,” he admitted, readjusting his pack on his shoulder. He watched as she winced in the sun, reaching out to guide her towards the city. “Erend said you were from Sunfall?” He prompted, trying to distract her from her pain. He was heading to a very well-known establishment that the Vanguard liked to frequent, being so close to the barracks. It was very rarely for breakfast, however, since if the Vanguard weren’t at the posts or drinking, they were usually in bed. He almost felt guilty at how little he knew about the girl, other than her rarity as a Carja women amongst Oseram brutes.

“Yes.” Aneta’s expression soured at the mention of Sunfall, though it quickly disappeared as she took another sip of her coffee. “I grew up there with my parents and little sister. My mother and sister moved to Meridian after that Nora woman defeated Helis, to live with my grandmother, and I followed along. But why do you ask? Are you going to Sunfall?”

Her expression, however fleeting, didn’t seem to be lost on him. He found the two a bench in the corner of the room, taking a seat across from her and setting his pack next to him. “Near it, yes. The last troop of scouts we’ve sent along that way haven’t reported in. I’ve got to rouse Elof to get him packed up to come with, but the party last night affected him a little too much. You’d think it had been his birthday last night.” He grinned. “So. Your grandmother. She single?” he teased.

Aneta barked out a surprised laugh as she sat her mug of coffee on the table. “She’s widowed, so good luck.” Leaning on her elbows, she played with a lock of her hair, though the gesture was more habit than flirty. “I saw Elof last night before we left for the range. He didn’t look that bad, but I guess the bastard can drink his weight.” She paused, turning her gaze to the table top. “So these scouts, what do you think happened to them?”

Kiln waggled his brows. “So yes,” he teased. As the conversation became more serious, though, he frowned. The barkeep was bringing out their eggs and rashes of bacon; a simple meal but costless, financed to the Vanguard by Avad himself. Kiln waited until he was gone before cracking off a piece of bacon and bringing Sunfall back up. “Not sure, probably nothing good.” He heaved a sigh. “It’s likely I’ll perish on this mission. If only my last night hadn’t been spent tucking my coworkers into bed.” He peered at her over the mug of coffee, green eyes alight with teasing. Could he take anything seriously?

She sent him a look, though a smirk tugged at her lips. “If you shoot like anything I remember, you’ll be fine.” She picked up a piece of her own bacon, humming thoughtfully. “Actually, scratch that. You’re definitely going to die.”

Kiln emitted a hearty laugh, washing down his bacon with the rest of his coffee. “Shit happens. But if I can get Granny Carja to come with me, it’ll all be worth it in the end. Us geezers gotta stick together.” He pushed the eggs around on his plate. “And you? What will you do on your day off, birthday girl?”

She pushed a piece of bacon into her egg yolk. “Hmm… I was thinking of see old ‘Granny Carja’ and my mom, but I might have other plans now.” She popped the bacon into her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him. “I think I might be going on a trip towards Sunfall, if Erend or someone gives me permission. Or orders. Whichever you’re into.”

The smile on Kiln’s face spread even wider. “I think I can arrange that,” he relented. “I think Elof will be glad to be off the hook. He hates the heat.” He polished off his plate. “I’ll write up the orders if you want to pack. Expect a three day hike both ways. We can resupply when we get there, if our contacts are still willing.” He moved to stand. “Oh, by the way, this is a do-not-engage mission, so we might even make it back. Tell grandma we’ll see her in a week or two.”

Aneta found herself smiling despite herself. “Oh good. The bitch won’t miss me, but I’ll be sure to tell her regardless.” She took a long drink of her coffee. “Why don’t you run ahead and sign those papers. I’ll pack up what I need. What time should I be ready?”

Kiln shouldered his back again. “You have twenty minutes,” he told her. “Then meet me at the West Gate. Bring lots of water.”

 

* * *

 

He was there, as promised waiting. “Orders are a go,” he updated her, slinging his bow over his back and checking his quiver. His hammer was in place as well, strapped to his pack. He really had a lot to carry, but it didn’t seem to bother him. In fact, the coffee seemed to make him even more cheerful. “Shall we, gorgeous?”

She scoffed. “Call me gorgeous again and you’re going to find my foot up your ass.”

Brushing past him, she waltzed through the gate, waving to one of the guards that stood post there. She had a bounce to her step, despite the heavy armor she wore, with her bag swung over one shoulder and her bow strapped to her back. She walked ahead of Kiln, seemingly uncaring if he was quick to follow or not.

Seemingly amused at her standoffishness, Kiln couldn’t help but remember the look Erend had given him when he proposed the excursion. She certainly was an ember. He fell in behind her, letting her set the pace, and a few steps made it easy to place him next to his travel companion rather than behind. “Too bad the Nora’s not with us. I bet I could conquer one of those ravagers easily. We’d be riding to Sunfall in style.”

“Yeah, with you between its teeth,” she snorted. “I think I’ll keep my distance from any big machines, unless I absolutely have to fight them. Though, I think you’d make great bait while I made my escape. Tall, big and muscular, and ugly; the perfect target.”

“Irresistible,” he told her, digging around in his pack. “You forgot ‘irresistible’.” Coming up with his pipe, he walked while he packed it. “We have quite a hike ahead of us, recruit,” he told her. “I think you need to fill me in on why you decided to join the Vanguard in the first place? Your family arrange a marriage for you or something?” He paused only to light the pipe, hand cupping the flame against the gentle breeze. It was bound to be a nice day, but it was cool. And a cool day in the desert meant an unforgiving chill when the sun went down.

Aneta ran her fingers through her hair, twisting her mouth to the side briefly. “Um, yes. Sort of. There was talk of it, but that was before my father died. It’s also not the reason I joined.” She eyed his pipe, wondering what was so great about smoking. Maybe she’d actually try it one of these days. “The reason I joined has more to do with my father. He was part of the Eclipse. I know it sounds blunt for me to put it as simply as that, but it’s true. I don’t try to hide it, because it would only come back to bite me in the ass if I did.”

Kiln didn’t seem to have much by way of followup questions, quietly digesting the information. “So… you thought maybe you could make up for what he’d done by impressing Erend enough to join the Vanguard,” he attempted on his own. The scent of the tobacco wasn’t bad, and in fact was honeyed with the flavor of apple. “How did that go for you? I’d heard there was a bit of a fiasco a while back, before the battle of the Spire, when a Carja kid in Meridian was seeing a Shadow from across the lake. What a mess that was.”

Aneta sighed. “Erend didn’t trust me for obvious reasons. The whole shitshow with the Shadow Carja, as you know, has put a huge damper on a lot of relationships. Of course Sun-King Avad is accepting of anyone who wants to join him, but I had to go through my own share of questioning when I made it known that I wanted to be part of the Guard.” She inhaled the scent of his tobacco, finding it relaxing in its own way. “I’m a woman, though. I know, I know, hard to believe. But because of that, I can’t be part of the Carja Guard. The Vanguard, on the other hand, has no issue taking in women. They just don’t typically take in Carja. Sun-King Avad spoke with Erend and he made an allowance.”  
She kicked a pebble ahead as they walked, the act somewhat childish, yet it kept her focus on the conversation at hand. She lost it, however, as they walked over a patch of grass.

“I wanted to join to make a difference,” she continued. “I watched so many people die and I wanted to put an end to that. I want to help make things better, not worse. I’ll admit, I was inspired by a certain redhead, though.” She paused once more, considering the next thing she had to say. Best to just get it out. “I was there the day she was thrown in the Sun Ring. My father made my family watch. It was one of his favorite things. Imagine how horrified he was when the Nora kicked that Behemoth’s ass.”

Kiln had fallen back just slightly as the girl talked, his eyes, too, on the ground as they walked. He busied himself with his pipe, the trail of smoke wafting away on the breeze before he could even see it. He took in the information quietly, though he’d already known some of it from speaking to Erend. “The Vanguard talks about you a lot,” he finally offers. Then he held up a hand. “Good things,” he chuckled. “You’re quite a commodity. When I heard it was your birthday I had to come and see what all the talk was about. I wasn’t disappointed.”

“I’m a pet,” she corrected with a smile, which she flashed when she looked over her shoulder at him. “A good one, too. I always do what I’m told and I do it with a ‘yes sir.’ It makes you likable, you see. Plus, it’s sort of hard to do anything bad when you’re under close watch.”

This seemed to rile Kiln, if just a little bit. “How close of a watch,” he wanted to know, hooking a thumb beneath the strap of his shoulder pack. “After the battle of the Spire, the last thing we need is to waste resources babysitting.” He leaned forward, frowning at her from beneath his brows. “Do I need to be worried about you? Should I have brought a chaperon?”

She broke into laughter, unable to help herself. It was the type of laughter that had her throwing her head back. “You’re just jealous that I’m more liked than you. Don’t worry, Sir, I can handle myself just fine. Just make sure to keep an eye open while you sleep; I might slit your throat.” She stuck her tongue out at him, the comment said in such a teasing manner that it couldn’t be taken seriously. She liked watching his expressions when she said things that got to him. They were positively delightful.

Squinting his eyes at her playful threat, Kiln reached up to rub at his throat beneath his beard, wincing. “That doesn’t sound like my type of evening,” he admits, playing along. “At least leave my face. My parents might want an open casket funeral.” He seemed content to fall into silence for a while, looking back towards the city. “There’ve been reports of sand storms where we’re headed. You probably know how to deal with those better than I. If it were snow, it’d be a different story.” Perhaps this was his way of asking for advice?

She gave a nervous laugh, hunching her shoulders slightly. “Yeah,” she drew the word out. “Believe it or not, I’ve never actually been in a sand storm. I lived within Sun Fall. Whenever there were sand storms, I stayed in like everyone else within the city. This is going to be as new to me as it is to you. Hopefully we don’t die. That’d be a shame for the mission, huh?”

Kiln shrugged. “Might explain the missing soldiers,” he admitted. He fell into quiet at the concept, considering the possibility that, should that theory be correct, they might never find evidence of the Vanguard’s missing men. Sure, he’d seen storms plenty, but never ones of sand, and he knew the dunes liked to move like glaciers, sometimes overnight, covering entire villages. He shivered at the thought.

The evening came upon them, but not without warning. The temperature dropped, wind whistling past the mesas, scattering sand with a hiss along their path. Kiln frowned as he checked his map, then the sun. “Guess here’s good as any. If this wind picks up we might lose kindling, so let’s set up near that outcrop.” He pointed off the trail towards a hulk of rock. “I’ll check the perimeter. We haven’t seen many machines yet.. They gotta be somewhere.”

“Well, scream if you see any. It’ll give me a chance to run.” She chuckled quietly. “Just kidding. I doubt there’s anything too big around here. We would have heard them by now. I’ll start a fire while you do your thing.”

Without further ado, the two went their separate ways. Aneta headed towards the outcrop while Kiln went to check the perimeter. She was sure he wasn’t going to find anything. She wasn’t a machine tracker or hunter, so she didn’t know much about machines, but she knew to listen for them from her training with the Vanguard.

Throughout the day, she had pondered on her decision to travel with Kiln. He was certainly a bubbly person, which she expected to fade as the day went on. Still, he had managed to stay chipper despite the soreness of their feet or the ache of their backs.

She didn’t understand it, but she found herself liking it. Would she ever admit that aloud? Hell no. Especially when she had made it very clear that she had wanted to sleep with him the previous night and he must have rejected her. Or maybe he really was a gentleman, as he had claimed.

Either way, she wasn’t going to risk possibly embarrassing herself again.

As she continued towards the outcrop, she stopped to pick up sticks she could use as kindling. She listened for Kiln as she walked, though she was sure the man could handle himself. Especially if he was better with his bow when he wasn’t drunk.

She’d be right about the lack of machines. Kiln muttered as he saw the landscape swept clean by the winds, leaving no trace of even his own tracks behind. At least it was dry, he noted as he plucked a few sprigs in passing, testing them for use in a fire. He was rather liking the cold setting in; it cooled his brow and seeped into his armor, and after feeling the sun bake him in it for most of the day, it was a welcome respite.

He returned to the campsite with a small armful of kindling, glad to see she had a small pile of her own going. As the sun was going down, he could see her breath. “Did you bring a tent?” he asked. “The cots in the barracks are one thing, but you learn to appreciate what a good bedroll and cover does for you out here.”

She looked around as if she was just now noticing where they were. “Shit,” she muttered before releasing a loud groan. “I didn’t think of packing a tent. I was more concerned on bringing food and water.”

Despite her sudden frustration with herself, she began to pile the sticks in the center of a ring of rocks she had put together. Her brows pinched together in a frown, lips pressed into a thin line.

Kiln was watching her, attempting to hide his surprise. The look on her face, however, brought that grin back. “Did you at least bring a bedroll? I’ll share my tent, but I barely fit on the roll,” he admitted, slinging his pack down into the dirt and unsnapping the bedroll from the bottom. “We might not even need one tonight. The rocks are still warm from the sun. Probably the only good thing about camping in the desert.” He glanced around. “That and the privacy, I guess.”

She glanced around again, her cheeks heating. Yes, there was a lot of privacy. “I’m lucky I brought my bedroll, then. The ground might be warm, but I don’t want my face in the sand just yet.” She dug through a pocket until she found her box of matches. Striking one, she lit the fire - or rather, the dried grass that she had shoved in with the kindling. “I’m curious about you, dear Kiln. You mentioned your parents earlier. I’m surprised you still have both. Or is it just a Carja thing to typically not have both parents?”

Kiln set about dutifully constructing the tent. He enjoyed one a little bigger than most recruits, but not nearly made for two. He fussed at it while Aneta tended the fire. “It’s rare in the Claim as well, especially after the Red Raids,” he told her, not looking up from his task. “War affects everyone differently. For my parents, it was seeing their friends and family dying around them or being taken. But for some reason, they always managed to make it through.” He shrugged. “Lucky, I guess.” He stood straight, admiring his handiwork with the tent before kicking his bedroll into it. He removed his gauntlets, setting them near his pack. “Dinner?”

“Yes please,” Aneta muttered, thinking on what he had said. Everyone she had known back in Sunfall had lost at least one person that they cared about. Loss was not something she was unfamiliar with, especially with her own father six feet under. She poked at the fire. “Why did you join the Vanguard?”

He moved to join her, and from the sharp exhale he made when he sat down, it was obvious he was glad to be off his feet. He leaned back against the huge rock behind them, offering the wrapped parcel of cheese and bread he brought. The sausage was dry but went nicely with the rest. He was uncapping the top of his flask as he considered her question. “It just always seemed to be the thing I would do. No brothers, no sisters. Erend was a friend of the family, so when he came looking for new recruits it seemed natural to fall in. How did I get to be second-in-command? Oh. Glad you asked. It’s that irresistibility I was talking about earlier.” He winked at her playfully.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Erend probably just felt bad for you.” She leaned back on one of her hands, nibbling on the cheese he had offered. “I bet he saw you and thought, ‘oh, this poor bastard. I have to give him some purpose.’ That and I’ll admit you’re good with a bow. But that’s the only compliment you’re going to get out of me.”

Kiln at first looked wounded but the grin he gave her wrinkled the top of his nose, making it almost a playfully wolfish smile. “Is that what you thought when you met me behind the pub? That I looked like a guy who needed purpose?” He tilted back a swallow of whatever he kept in his flask. “I’m not nearly so stingy with my compliments,” he bragged. “I’ll sit here all night and tell you what I think ‘til your face never gets its true color back.”

She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, but her cheeks got the better of her and flushed. She would have very much liked to have him compliment her all night long. That, however, would leave her in a giggling mess and she could not have that. “Pfft, you missed your chance, buddy. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in hours, which means I’m better at judging what I should and shouldn’t do. You, dear sir, are something I will not do.”

Reaching out, she flicked his nose. Kiln groaned. “Stab me in the heart, recruit,” he lamented, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “Did I seriously miss my chance, trying to do the right thing? Serves me right. Or did you decide you didn’t like what you saw?” The last given to her with a tilt of his head. Oh, he’d seen that blush. “Because between watching you shoot and walk, I almost wondered if I’d met my match.” He wouldn’t mention the way her lips had wrapped around the mouthpiece of his pipe. No, he wouldn’t mention that.

She stared at him, her brown eyes flickering across his features. Said lips were slightly parted, as if the breath had been knocked from her. If her cheeks had been red before, they were far redder now. She found herself very close to tackling him, though she refrained from doing so.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, sir.” Her voice was a near purr. “And don’t kid yourself; I’m better than you. After all, you’re just an Oseram and I’m Carja.”  
Kiln met her dark eyes with his, studying the newest shade of her skin. This was his new favorite thing. His eyes half closed, and he nudged her elbow teasingly, fingers wrapping around her arm. There was a pressure there, almost imperceptible, an invitation. “You look like you’re wearing Oseram armor to me,” he admitted. “Though I know underneath you’re softer than you like to make people think.” He was making a gamble, there. He knew so little about her, he realized he might be barking up the wrong tree with a statement like that.

But she didn't laugh or argue against it. Instead a sincere smile tugged at her lips, her gaze flickering down to his lips. She knew she could very easily lean forward and kiss him, yet she hesitated, her stomach twisting into knots. Without alcohol in her system, she wasn't as confident as the previous night, even though he acted so inviting.

She tore her gaze from his lips, blinking several times as if to come out of her daze. “If you keep this up, it'll start to look like you see me as a girl.”

“Want me to pretend otherwise?” he suggested. “That my head’s turmoil to think one of my male recruit’s has got me all twisted up? That’d be a story for mom and dad.” He laughed again, the sound echoing off the rock at their back. “Sorry, Aneta,” he said her name carefully, tasting the word. “I’m not getting the image of you reaching down to peel off your shirt any time soon.” At least he was honest.

The sound of her name on his lips had her stomach doing flips, her cheeks almost feverish. She reached up to run her fingers through her hair, accidentally releasing a giggle that sounded similar to a bell. “Did I, uh, actually get naked in front of you? It’d suck if that were the case and I didn’t even get laid.”

Kiln yawned mightily, giving himself a stretch. “No worries. You had me right beat. Down to the underthings. There’s still plenty of surprise saved for a rematch.” He winked at her, setting aside his flask. The breeze picked up, and he frowned, reaching forward to push more kindling into the fire. Their voices, aside from the hissing of sand, seemed the only sound for miles, and it was a little unnerving. He was thankful he wasn’t out here alone and had someone to distract him from the bleak landscape. “Speaking of, I see no reason to sleep in this shit tonight.” He unbuckled his armored boots. “There’s not life for miles.”

Aneta rolled her eyes. “And that's how you die. I think I'll keep mine on. It's freezing out here, anyway.” She watched him for a moment. “I guess you're used to colder climates, though. From growing up in the Claim, I mean.”

Continuing to unlock himself from his armor, the Oseram nodded. “Took me a while to get used to it. My family barely recognized me when I came back for a visit. They called me Pollen Head for the longest time, since when I left my hair was a lot darker.” He paused. “That’s between you and I, by the way.” His pauldrons added to the pile, but he decided to leave the majority on. He glanced back at the tent. “You gonna stay up a bit? It’s just gonna get colder,” he promised, his playful smile faded into seriousness when the wind picked up.

She shrugged. “There's no use in staying up. Plus, I'm beat after dealing with a hangover all day.” Standing from her spot, she grabbed her bedroll from her pack, having yet to unroll it beside his. She made sure to leave as much space between their bedrolls as it was possible within the small tent. The last thing she needed was to end up snuggling the man in her sleep.

Kiln banked the fire and followed in close behind, muttering an apology when he bumped into her while she set up her roll. Yes, this was going to be an interesting arrangement. At least he took up less space without his armor on.

Stretching out on his back, he hooked his fingers behind his head, watching her openly as she set about her bedroll. “So what do Shadow Carja mumble in their sleep?” he wanted to know. He looked terribly comfortable even with his leather cuirass on.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I don't personally, no. But I did share a bed with a little sister until I was seventeen, so I unintentionally snuggle. I know, sounds farfetched coming from someone like me.” She laid down on her bedroll and stared up at the roof of the tent. “You were right about me being soft. I'm really good with children. But don't tell anyone about that, okay?”

Kiln shifted to lean on his side, propping his head up on a fist. “That is fuckin adorable. More family huh? Where they at now?” It was already getting warmer despite the weather outside. The breeze fluttered the edges of the tent, but otherwise they seemed well-fortified against the night. “As for me, I’ve been accused of snoring. I think it’s an Oseram thing.”

“Which I’ve grown quite used to.” She shot him a smile, though decided to dodge the question about family. She had already answered enough questions about herself for the day and was not going to give him anymore. “If you snore too loud, I’ll just punch you in the side or something. Trust me, I won’t hesitate.”

Kiln held his hands up in defense, turning to lean back down onto the mat. He twisted a little, trying to get comfortable. His hammer rested at his side, still within reach despite his attempt at making them more room. Unfortunately, though, for Aneta, Kiln was the talkative type. “So what do you think happened to the guys we sent to Sunfall?” She might as well start punching him for all he was intending to keep his mouth shut.

She released a loud sigh, reaching up to rub at the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure. I have no idea why Erend would send anyone to Sunfall. You have more information than me. Perhaps you should sleep on it.” Rolling onto her side, she turned her back to him, using one of her arms as a pillow. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

Kiln frowned a little at her back as she rolled away from him, emitting his own sigh and raising his eyes to the roof of the tent. He squinted, just able to see the moon through the fibers. The giant rock nearby almost blotted out the view.

The Oseram closed his eyes, but just briefly. He peeked one open again. Wait a moment, that wasn’t where that rock was before. He was almost sure of it.

“Uh. Aneta…” he murmured.

She groaned, having just been on the verge of sleep. She had half the mind to reach over and swat him for waking her. “What?”

He was still squinting up at the moon, frowning. “Nothing. Nevermind. See you in the morning.” For a long time he looked at the outline of the rock against the sky, but it didn’t serve to make him any more suspicious. Cursing the wind-swept sands, he dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry but I do NOT know what's going on with the formatting here.  
> Sorry.
> 
> Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t bother,” one of the Eclipse jeered. He didn’t need to point out that Kiln would never make it to the weapon. Perhaps they’d already seen how skilled of a swimmer he was. Despite that, the Oseram was still eyeballing his chances when an arrow shot past him, a warning shot for the both of the Vanguard.
> 
> Kiln reluctantly put up his hands with a nudge at his companion. “I’m… open to ideas,” he asked, voice a whisper as he waited for another shot.

Aneta woke to a loud rumble, a whir of sound that had her mind lurching into wakefulness. Her eyes flew open, the sound of rocks sliding and something else that she couldn’t quite place right away. She pushed herself up, the ground shuddering underneath her. “Kiln,” she said, her voice a warning. The sun was just cresting over the horizon, but it was blocked out by something in front of their tent. She reached out, slapping her companion’s thigh, though she was sure he was already awake as well.

Awake, and his hand already on the haft of his warhammer. “I knew it!” He yelled, almost victoriously, though what he knew exactly may as well be a mystery to the both of them. He was pushing her out the flap of the tent as fast as he could get himself up as well, eyes lifting to the rock face they’d slept against for most of the night. Rock had only made up a small portion, and even as the two Vanguard ducked away from it, the Behemoth within emitted a groaning call, shaking boulders the size of boars off of its flanks. “The fuck?” was all Kiln seemed willing to say, looking around for his damned bow. 

Aneta scrambled away from the tent, eyes wide. She had sparred with the Vanguard and she had taken down a few smaller machines, but a Behemoth? She had hoped to never encounter one. “Maybe if we just…” she trailed off, watching as the creature began to making whirring sounds once more, though these were of a different nature than the ones before.

Boulders cracked and groaned as they were brought up from the ground, sparks of blue electricity bouncing off of them as they rose into the air. Aneta cursed.

Kiln had acquired his bow and was already nocking an arrow into place, gaining footing enough to aim at the machine. But… where? He pointed to its head, then to its chest, then to the barrel-like stomach. When the boulders started rising, he dropped his aim, eyes widening. “...run!” He shouted, finishing the Carja’s suggestion.

Grabbing her own bow, Aneta rolled out of the way just in time as the boulders began flying outward. One crashed near her, bits of it breaking apart and hitting her side. She gasped, her bow almost falling from her hands. Looking back towards the tent, she realized that she had left her quiver there. Her bow was practically useless and she didn’t have a hammer like Kiln. Only knives. That was going to do little good against a Behemoth.

“We’re going to lose all our shit if we run!” she yelled, dodging another boulder.

Kiln had released his arrow as the boulder’s had struck, blown off his feet by the blast and hitting the ground on his back. Without bothering getting up, he nocked a second arrow, this one just a little different. “Then we hide!” He yelled. The arrow flew from his bow just as Aneta realised it was a concussion shot. It went wide, over the Behemoth, exploding just behind its shoulder. It huffed steam from its face as it whirled to face the new threat, and for a moment it didn’t look in their direction. 

Kiln twisted to gather his bearings, but there was so precious little in the desert to hide a body, let alone two. 

Aneta, on her feet, was already running back to their camp, which had been practically destroyed. The tent was a loss cause, so she didn’t bother to go to it, instead grabbing their two packs and her quiver. The distraction wouldn’t be enough to let her get out of there without being seen, but at least she had her arrows now.

Shouldering her bag, she drew her bow and nocked on an arrow, training it towards the Behemoth’s belly. If she managed to knock it off, there would be an explosion, but it  _ just _ might take down the beast long enough to let them run.

With an exhaled breath, she let the arrow fly.

And it bounced right off the beast’s belly as if there had been no blade on it. She released a curse, eyes wide as the machine turned towards her.

Thankfully, Kiln was fast for an Oseram. He was already on his feet and running towards the Behemoth, seeing Aneta’s shot have little effect. He scooped up his war hammer on the way. Surely, he wasn’t going to try and melee the thing? 

“YOU WRECKED MY TENT!” The Oseram cried, running full-tilt towards the machine with hammer raised. Perhaps he thought he was still wearing all his armor. He never claimed to be  genius, after all. 

“Kiln!” Aneta screamed, though she sounded more angry than scared. Damn Oseram and their ‘face on’ attitude. This was why so many of them died all of the time. She drew another arrow, cursing repeatedly as she let them fly. She aimed at any weak spots that weren’t near Kiln, worried that if they exploded that they would end up hurting him more than the actual Behemoth could. “You stupid mother fucker!”

Distracted by the onslaught of arrows, the Behemoth reared, tossing its immense head in fury. When it landed, Kiln staggered but didn’t stop. The thing focused on him, the housing that covered its force loaders detaching just enough to focus on the Oseram’s position. 

Kiln’s hammer connected solidly with the side of the giant transport machine’s head, sending sparks and jolting it slightly to the side. Another hit, and the power cells were exposed, but now it was making that whirring sound, snakes of electricity shooting through the earth at its feet.

Aneta loaded another arrow, her chest heaving with breath as both panic and exertion met her. Despite this, she kept her hands steady, skillfully letting loose arrow after arrow. She put her main focus on the machine’s belly, determined to blast the circular tank off. At this point, she didn’t care if the blast shook Kiln. Served him right for getting that close.

Releasing another arrow, this one hit its mark and an explosion had her whipping her head to the side, covering her face with an arm.

Kiln had just sank the pointed end of his hammer into the armor covering the Behemoth’s head, and was giving it a mighty pull just as Aneta’s arrows hit their mark. The chunk of armor became his life raft, taking the brunt of the explosion while still blasting him several yards away. He skidded briefly on his back, making a furrow in the sand as the breath was knocked from his lunges. Bruised, singed, but grinning, Kiln rose up again. With a whoop, he raised his hammer in a fist as he saw the machine stagger. “Shoot that fucker!” he called to his companion while he tried to wrestle his hammer out of the chunk of armor. It was like he had no idea just how luck seemed to follow him.

Aneta muttered something mean under her breath towards the man, but continued to let loose her arrows. She was happy the bastard was alive, at least. She was just going to kick his ass after this.

Knocking off the components on the machine’s head, the Behemoth fell to its side, still sparking with life, yet beaten enough to not put up much more of a fight. Aneta closed in on it, shooting off the last component near the top of its head.

The Behemoth clattered to pieces under her final attacks, and with the last hiss of its fluids spilling onto the sand, Kiln’s victorious yell echoed across the desert. He was close enough to sweep her instantly into the air, as if she were the champion in a great contest, and planted a messy kiss in the vicinity of her mouth. “Amazing!” He yelled directly afterwards, not seeming to mind that he was still slightly on fire. 

Wide eyed and still panting for breath, Aneta stared at the man. He was crazy. She had gone on a trip with a crazy man. “How did you find that fun?!” she demanded, her voice a mere shriek. “We could have died!  _ You _ could have died!” She quickly moved to pat him down, hoping to brush off some of the fire.

Kiln set her lightly on her feet, ignoring the slight blaze that she controlled on his shoulder. “But we didn’t!” was the man’s retort. His grin faded somewhat. “Are you alright?” he asks worriedly. “You ran to the tent and about gave me a heart attack.” Yeah. Gave  _ him _ a heart attack. Because she was the one doing the scary stuff. 

“I’m fine,” she insisted as she pulled away from him. She hadn’t actually stopped to check herself, yet her answer came instantly. She felt an ache at her side, though it wasn’t as bad as she thought it could be. “I knew I could run if I had to.” That was a lie, but she wouldn’t let him know how scared she had been. Her hands were still shaking.

Kiln, however, seemed relieved at her assurance. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, turning to look at the immense corpse they’d made. “Can you believe we  _ slept _ next to that thing?” he gawked, then folded his arms. “Reminds me of an old girlfriend.” He turned, heading towards where the remains of their camp lay, attempting to inspect what was left of their tent and bedrolls. “Guess it’s good a time as any to pack and move.”

She looked at the machine, the hulking beast of it, and gaped at the idea of it being any similar to a woman. She found herself barking out a surprised laugh, though it was cut short when pain shot up her side. She cursed under her breath, placing a hand at her waist. She was sure it wasn’t  _ that _ bad. She could probably walk it off.

 

Stepping forward, she joined him. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed as she scooped up her bag once more, which had dropped during the battle, and examined the campsite. “We could have died.”

Kiln grunted when he discovered one of his gauntlets had been damaged, packing it away with his bedroll and what was left of the tent, shaking the sand and perhaps a scorpion or two from the wreckage. “Stop saying that,” he told her with a chuckle, Of course she was right, even he would know that. If he was injured in any way, it wasn’t apparent, and thankfully his cuirass had only caused a slight bit of road rash as he’d skidded across the desert. He tested the spot on the back of his shoulder with a hand, and, finding no blood, seemed satisfied to get going. “Ready? I already can’t wait for lunch.” 

Her lips pulled back in a disapproving sneer, though she didn’t say anything on the matter. She still wasn’t sure how he was still chipper even after that whole ordeal. Again, he had to be crazy. She was sure of it.

With a sigh, she started walking forward, reaching up to shake sand out of her hair. She could have used more sleep, because now her headache was back and her side had been added to the mix of pain. She pulled out her flask and popped off the lid to take a long and hard drink.

At least it was warmer. Much, much warmer, at least, than it had been the day before. It didn’t take much more traveling for Kiln to really start feeling the heat, and he drew his scarf up and over his face and head to keep from burning. At least the piece of cloth kept him from chatting her ears off. Lizards skittered out of their paths when their shadows fell, and it seemed to take forever for those shadows to begin to lengthen after the midday sun. 

Aneta began hanging behind as they walked, attempting to hide her pain behind a neutral expression. She tried to not touch her side or look down at it, worried that Kiln would take notice. Instead she continued to sip at her flask throughout the day, but even that wasn’t helping.

“Too bad we don’t have that Nora with us,” she said after a bit. “We could be riding chargers or broadheads right now. How nice would that be?” She released a daydreamy sigh.

Kiln seemed to finally notice how far behind she’d been lagging, adjusting his steps to hers and tugging his scarf down a little to see her better. He appraised her briefly, but asked no questions. “If she were here, I doubt we would need to be. Hear she runs errands on a whim…” He then barked a laugh. “From what I hear, she runs  _ our _ Erend to the ground.” He gave her a knowing grin. Ah, gossip.

Aneta raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I heard they were close. Is that true? Though I doubt there’s anyone Erend  _ can’t _ be close with. He’s a very gentle man, despite what he puts on. He always seems quick to laugh.” She hummed thoughtfully, fiddling with the cap to her flask.

“Huh! He’s not  _ that _ interesting, is he?” Kiln seemed to want to know, his grin faltering somewhat. “As for him and Aloy… I’ve heard things. Horrible things.” He wrinkled his nose a little. “Let’s just say I won’t be crashing at the Captain’s quarters any time she’s in town. No one wants to hear their boss make those kinds of sounds.” 

She gaped at him. “Wait, what?! So they’re  _ really _ close. Well, good for them, I guess.” She turned her gaze to the desert before them, frowning. “Should we stop for lunch? We still have a ways to go, but food is important too.”

Kiln lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Might as well, though I was hoping we’d see a spring by now. I had heard one was off the road. Wouldn’t mind getting this machine oil off of me.” He paused, glancing around. “Ah, there.” In the haze of distance sat another cluster of rocks, this time, thankfully, too small to hide another Behemoth. “I think I see moss. Maybe that’s it.” The prospect of shade was also one to consider. 

Aneta looked towards the rocks, her shoulders hunching briefly before she realized that there certainly couldn’t be any machines there. Relaxing at the thought of fresh water, she followed Kiln towards the area. As they got closer, the sound of rushing water had her tensing once more as she remembered what could lurk  _ under _ the water.

“Do you think any Snapmaws are around?” she asked, voice far smaller than she had intended. Perhaps it could have been perceived as her being purposefully quiet.

Kiln, however, seemed willing to find out firsthand. He peered around one of the rocks, frowning. “Huh. Crystal clear,” he observed, surprised. “Even with all the sand blowing around.” As if that seemed to assure him of his immortality, he dropped his pack and weapons and stepped into the water, armor and all. With a crash, he submerged without even a glance in her direction.

When he came back up, he was grinning. “Cold as snow,” he told her, peeling off his scarf and wringing it out before flinging it onto the bank. “Lose the pack, recruit. Come swim.” 

She sat down her belongings, but hesitated at the shoreline. Unlike him, she wasn’t going to get her armor and clothes soaking. She was suddenly very thankful that it was warm outside, because she was about to be very exposed.

Peeling off her armor, she sat the pieces aside, ignoring Kiln as she undressed. Hopefully a swim would also help the ache at her side. She slid her pants down her legs and folded them atop her armor before shimmying out of her shirt as well. She kept her underwear and bra on, not daring to be nude around the man.

Now standing without clothes, she stretched, groaning in satisfaction. It was so much cooler now. She wished she could just stay like this. She turned and stepped into the water, careful to not slip on the slimy rocks.

Kiln had been splashing water on his face while Aneta set down her things, washing off the grittiness of the day and the sweat from travel. He was an efficient man, thankfully, and so scrubbed at a spot on his armor while he was chest deep in water, realizing only too late that it was a scorch mark he worked at, not a stain. He glanced up, opening his mouth to say something, but the sight of Aneta peeling off her armor made him hesitate. When she pulled off her shirt, he couldn’t help but stare, lips still parted as if to speak. As if he’d remember how. This was completely different from the night at the range, and his clear head let him appreciate every nuance. 

Well, that was one way to shut him up. 

She waded into the water until she was up to her hips, a shiver running through her as she adjusted to the cold of the water. “By the Sun, I thought it was going to be warmer than this.” She dipped her hands into the water and rubbed at her arms, washing off sweat and dirt. Glancing up, she finally realized he was staring at her. “What?”

Kiln’s expression was one of complete bafflement. “How do you not know ‘ _ what’ _ ?” He demanded of her, reaching out to curl his fingers around her upper arm. He drew her closer in the water, his eyes on hers. “Aneta, there’s no way we’re going any further…” His green eyes dropped to her lips. “Until you tell me how much  _ this _ hurts.” Pointedly, he prodded her rib, where he’d seen a bruise start to form. 

She exhaled a hiss through her teeth. “Well, when you do that, it hurts a lot.” She swatted his hand away. Her cheeks were hot from his sudden proximity. She had thought he was going to flirt with her again, not fret over her side. “I’m fine. I just got hit by one of the rocks.”

Kiln cackled as she slapped his hand away, releasing her. “I believe you for now. But you better expect I’m watching you. You’re not much help to me if I’ve got to carry you. Though… to be honest…” he rubbed at his beard. “I wouldn’t mind.” He began unclasping his armor, satisfied it’d been thoroughly rinsed. “Need some ochrebloom?” 

She considered it for a moment, dipping down into the water until she was up to her collarbone. “Maybe when I get out,” she relented, her gaze fixated on him as he took off his armor. “Right now I just want to enjoy this wonderful water.”

The Oseram shot her an almost wistful smile. That was something he could agree with, so he didn’t press the issue. The man’s armor found its way to the shore, as well as the orange and white striped shirt that was the standard. It had holes in it already, but it and his armor did its job protecting its wearer. He only had a long scrape on the back of his shoulder, and suffered little by way of bruises. Yes, he had a lucky charm on him somewhere.

He used the water to slick back his normally shaggy mane, tugging it behind his ears. Glancing at her, he took her example and sank down, emitting a breath of relief at the cold water seeping into his sweaty skin. “Ah.” 

Aneta scrubbed at her skin underneath the water for a few moments before deciding to swim around a bit, if only to keep moving. There weren’t many opportunities to swim within Meridian, but she had found that she had always enjoyed the act. Though she had never swam without her sister, so she found it somewhat boring now.

Curiously, she swam behind Kiln before splashing him, a grin tugging at her lips. “Tag!” she laughed.

He sat back up, sputtering as he wiped water out of his eyes. “I will end you,” he promised darkly, pretending to look around. “Where’s my hammer? Did you hide it?” An easy smirk pulled at his lips. “You think there are any fish in here?” he asked, his attention striving to seek anything but the way her underwear clung to her. “Besides you, of course. Might save us some rations.” Oh sure.  _ Now _ he was going to be logical. 

She splashed him again. “Are you  _ procrastinating? _ Is it because you know I can kick your ass, in and out of the water?” Laughter fell from her lips, her eyes meeting his in playful challenge. “You can either catch fish or catch me.”

And with that challenge, she had his full and uninterrupted attention. With a growl, he made a grab at her, but Oseram weren’t ever known for their skills in water sports. While not as hefty as most of his tribe, he was still much slower than her, and probably more likely to catch a cold than her  _ or _ a fish. Still. He did his best. And it was fun trying, after all. 

She slipped away from him everytime he came close, giggling as she splashed him repeatedly, with both her hands and her feet. She found it hilarious to watch him try to grab her, only to have her wiggle herself out of his way again. She practically swam circles around him, taunting and flirting.

He found it less hilarious, but he remained determined, each subtle brush of her skin in his hand as she fluttered by strengthening his resolve. He paused to catch his breath for only a moment.

“At this rate, I’ll be an old geezer like you before you catch me,” she giggled, swimming backwards and away from him. If he really wanted to, he could lunge at her and  _ possibly _ capture her. She faked a yawn. “C’mon, old man, I’m waiting.”

The taunt was the right one, it seemed, because Kiln put his all into his next pounce. Thankfully, he was tall enough to reach the bottom pebbles of the pool, using the leverage to his advantage. Graceful, however, he was not, and essentially crashed down on top of Aneta, thrusting them both beneath the water. She wasn’t getting away this time, not with  _ that _ grip. 

When they broke the surface of the water once more, Aneta gasped for breath before breaking into more laughter, squirming in Kiln’s arms. She discovered quite quickly that he wasn’t going to let her go, so she stopped struggling. Instead she draped her arms over his shoulders. “Well,” she said, attempting to not giggle some more. “You have me now. You win this round.”

Kiln rather liked the way her limbs slithered across his as she tried to escape his grip, but it was obvious he wasn’t using his entire strength, mindful of her bruises. Instead, he grinned at her wolfishly, holding her locked against him. “Hum. What a strange looking fish,” he mused, lifting her up until she was nearly level with his height. “Maybe I should throw this one back…” His eyes followed a rivulet of water that dripped from her hair. “Or… perhaps I should figure out just how she tastes…” 

His heart was pounding in his chest as he pressed his teeth to her shoulder, a playful bite, gentle. 

Despite herself, she shivered, her smiling falling momentarily. She bit down on her bottom lip, her cheeks hot as she watched him. She decided she liked having him this close, pressed against him. His arms felt safe and she didn’t realize how nice it would be to be wrapped up in them. “Well, I hope I don’t taste like a fish,” she teased.

Kiln’s grip had lessened once she didn’t seem keen on escaping, and he chuckled against her skin. “Bad comparison,” he admitted, voice much lower than it usually was. He turned his head, brushing his lips just briefly against the side of her neck. How she thought she could ever be compared to a boy was beyond him at this point, especially with his hands sliding experimentally over her curves. He moved with trepidation, playfulness dimmed as if expecting her to shove him away at any given moment. 

She reached up and brushed a lock of wet hair out of his face. “You don’t look so old up close. Weird.” She smirked, running her fingertips along his jaw. She considered leaning forward and brushing her lips against his. It would be so easy to kiss him, perhaps even welcomed. Yet she hesitated, deciding that she would let him make the first move. “Why, you might even be a little handsome.”

Kiln’s beard had become a little ragged over the past few days, so his jaw was anything but smooth when she touched it. Her compliment obviously went over well, judging by the grin that split his face. “You’re right, that  _ is _ weird,” he agreed, almost in a whisper. Was the water not cold enough for him? He sacrificed one of his hands, using the other to support her against him as he tilted her head just slightly, looking at her. “And you’re as gorgeous as the day I laid eyes on you.” 

“Wow, propose to me why don’t you?” she giggled, leaning into his touch. Her big brown eyes met his, her lips pulled into a sweet smile. She made herself look as inviting as she could, wondering if he  _ would _ make the first move. Perhaps he was too much of a gentleman.

For the first time, it seemed, Kiln was without confidence in something. He swallowed hard as he gazed at Aneta, a muscle in his jaw working. She was practically putty in his hands and he barely knew what to do with such a masterpiece. Screw it up, somehow, he knew. Still… her skin tasted so good, he was already addicted. His hand slid along her jaw, raking through her wet hair, gripping it gently before his lips pressed against hers. He didn’t press for more than that, the solidness of his body suggesting he still expected to be pushed away.

Noting this, Aneta wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She replied back to his kiss gently, as if to assure that she was alright with this.  _ More _ than alright with it. She smiled against his lips, finding that she very much liked this. Not that she thought she wouldn’t.

Kiln let himself be drawn against her, pulled into the kiss, finding bliss there. The noise he made wasn’t one he was proud of, slipping past his guard, but it was far too late to pretend he wasn’t interested now. Her smile when he broke the kiss brought one from him as well. “We’re going to end up skipping lunch,” he noted, his voice making it obvious just how much the concept concerned him. He didn’t even wait for her response before he moved in again, his grip a little stronger as he kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping past her teeth.

She melted against him, her heart hammering within her chest. Oh that sound he had made. It had made her legs feel weak, her head swim. She couldn’t care less about missing lunch. She felt a different kind of hunger, one that she was both familiar and unfamiliar with. She brushed her tongue against his, her cheeks hot.

Kiln seemed intent on enjoying this new sensation of her response, pulling back just slightly to nip at her bottom lip. His eyes were closed, but there was something in the back of his mind nagging him, tugging at his attention, and he wished it would just go away. It was a sound, a smell, something that wasn’t Aneta, so he wanted nothing to do with it.

That’s when the blast bomb exploded, destroying their weapons cache on the shore, rending the moment like a shattered pane of glass. Kiln twisted instantly, unable to keep himself from clutching protectively around Aneta as another bomb was ignited, this one far too close, sending their ears ringing.

The Eclipse seemed to melt from the rocks around them, coming into focus like Stalkers on the hunt. Kiln and Aneta, chest deep in the spring, suddenly found themselves without weapons, without armor, and with at least two dozen arrows drawn and aimed for their hearts. 

Aneta, teeth grit, refrained from cursing. This was her luck. Of course. Finally get to kiss the guy and they get ambushed. She wanted to scream out a ‘ _ c’mon! _ ’ or something similar to that. Though after a moment, she realized that perhaps her reaction to the sudden danger was not the reaction she  _ should _ have had. It was only in the moment of remembering that her family was no longer part of the Eclipse - and that Kiln was the second-in-command of the Vanguard - had her heart nearly stopping within her chest.

She clutched to Kiln, eyes widening as the situation slowly sank in. “Fuck,” she whispered.

Kiln, his buzz thoroughly killed, looked as murderous as anyone’s ever seen him. Even with pieces of their armor raining down around them, some of it on fire, he was checking the state of his hammer. It’d embedded itself in the rocky sand, unmarred by the blasts. 

“Don’t bother,” one of the Eclipse jeered. He didn’t need to point out that Kiln would never make it to the weapon. Perhaps they’d already seen how skilled of a swimmer he was. Despite that, the Oseram was still eyeballing his chances when an arrow shot past him, a warning shot for the both of the Vanguard. 

Kiln reluctantly put up his hands with a nudge at his companion. “I’m… open to ideas,” he asked, voice a whisper as he waited for another shot.

With a sigh, Aneta raised her hands as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note that we're writing in tandem. Despite who uploads the chapters, we're both writing them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, look who’s awake,” one of them, the first to enter the room, jeered. He stepped closer and Aneta took this time to note the weapons that he had on him. Two knives, a spear, and a pair of crude pliers. She didn’t want to know what those were for.

_“Daddy, where are we going?” her voice was gentle, meek, as she was guided down a long corridor, where the stone walls echoed every sound - whether it be the sound of footsteps of the skitter of a rat. She grimaced as she stepped over one, having never seen so many in one area. She could hear the wailing cries of someone in pain, though she wasn’t sure why her father was leading her towards it. She had to stop the shake of her hands by clasping them in front of her, staring ahead with wide brown eyes that were lined with red._

_Her father placed a hand on her shoulder and she tried to not shiver at his touch. She didn’t like it when he wore his Eclipse armor, especially the mask. It made him look inhuman and terribly frightening. She hated it._

_“You’re seventeen now, Anetalie.” His voice was rough from age and too much tobacco, the sound of it scratchy against the echoing walls. “Nearly old enough to wed.”_

_She swallowed hard, turning her gaze to him. “What does that have to do with why we’re here?”_

_“You don’t respect our traditions,” he said as they came upon a single door at the end of the hallway. “I’m going to show you what happens to those who don’t obey the Sun.”_

_Hand sliding down to her bicep, his fingers snarled around her arm as he pulled open the door and yanked her inside. With a startled yelp, her senses were filled with multiple things at once; first, her father’s hand on her arm. Second, the thick smell of blood, vomit, and excrement. Third, the loud wails of the man sitting at the center of the room._

_He was propped up on a sheet of wood, chained to it as he struggled. She could hardly recognize him as a man with the horror of his appearance. A table in front of him was littered with tools and body pieces, flies buzzing around in harmony._

_The man was missing all of his fingers but his thumbs. His head was kept tilted back by a double ended fork-like instrument that was strapped to his neck. Pieces of his chest were carved away to reveal muscle, blood dribbling down his body. Two other Eclipse soldiers stood within the room as well, sorting through different tools that were laid out atop the table._

_She screamed in her own horror, having never seen such gruesomeness, and turned to run. However, her father’s hand grabbed her by the back of the neck, forcing her to still. He held her their, fingernails digging into her skin as he stood close to her._

_“This is what happens when you disgrace the Sun, Anetalie. Disobey me again and Helis may not allow you to leave this room.” It was a hiss into her ear, a threat that had her blood running cold. “Understand me, girl?”_

_“Yes, sir.” She stared at the man as one of the Eclipse soldiers moved forward and began shaving off more of his skin. She wanted to run, to vomit, yet forced herself to stand there and watch, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin._

 

As Aneta sat alone within a room made of the same walls she had seen that day, she knew there was no doubt as to what would come. She wasn’t a fool to think this would go over well or end in her favor. She wasn’t sure where she was or how she had gotten here, but she did remember stepping out of the river. She remembered looking at Kiln, knowing that they were going to be tied and gagged, and wishing that she could save him from such a fate.

Then something had hit her head and she had been out like a light. When she had woken, she was here, within this stone room; sitting on a wooden chair with her hands tied behind her. Her temple throbbed, the heat of the room only intensifying her injuries as she took account of them all.

They hadn’t bothered dressing her, as she had figured. They would have stripped her regardless, she knew. She had simply made it easy for them by already being undressed. She was thankful they had at least left her in her underwear and bra.

Her head lolled to the side as she took in her surroundings, inhaling a deep breath of the hot and dusty air. She tugged experimentally at her hands, listening to the rattle of chains. She tested her feet and found the same situation.

How long had she been out? Her throat was aching for water, her belly growling for food. By the look of the dimming light that was filtering in from the window to her left, it was later in the day. Maybe towards sunset.

She put her focus into what she could hear, which was far more than she expected. She wasn’t in an area that was completely cut off from others, it seemed. Past the door she could hear the conversation of men, though it was too muffled to make out, and the shout of orders. There was the typical sounds one would expect to hear at a camp, so she wasn’t somewhere remote. Hopefully.

Swallowing hard, she thought bitterly about how ironic it was that she had ended up here, of all places. She could have been at home, drinking with the Vanguard, but instead she had had to follow a man out into the wilderness like a lovesick fool. Served her damn right.

She was sure they never would have gotten captured had they not been sucking on each other’s faces. If Elof had gone with Kiln, this never would have happened.

“Fuck,” she exhaled, letting the back of her head fall against the back of the chair. She stared up at the ceiling, curling and uncurling her toes. Her lip was split, but she wasn’t sure how that had happened. It _felt_ like she had been hit in the mouth, yet not hard enough to be from a punch. She licked the blood from her lip, the taste of it keeping her in the now.

She heard footsteps nearing the door, causing her body to tense. She curled her hands into fists at the loud, echoing, sound of someone sliding a key into the lock filled the room. The metal scraping and clanging noise of the lock turning ground on her senses. When the door opened, it scraped across the dirty ground, leaving a sandy streak across the floor.

Eyes flickering up to the two men that stepped in, Aneta felt her stomach flip at the sight of their Eclipse masks.

“Oh, look who’s awake,” one of them, the first to enter the room, jeered. He stepped closer and Aneta took this time to note the weapons that he had on him. Two knives, a spear, and a pair of crude pliers. She didn’t want to know what those were for.

The seconds man stayed silent and stopped by the door while the first man continued forward, coming to stand right in front of Aneta. She looked up at him, unafraid, challenging. He grabbed her by the jaw, squishing her cheeks with his large, gloved, fingers.

He turned her head from side to side and she could feel his eyes on her, even if she could not see them. “What a pretty little thing. We were surprised to find you with that Oseram.”

Her eyes were cold and unforgiving as they stared back up at him, her eyebrows pressed together in a glare. She would not speak. She would not give them that privilege.

“Why were you with him?” the man demanded, his voice going hard and stern, like a parent scolding a child.

Aneta did not answer.

He tightened his grip on her face. “ _Tell_ me.”

She only continued to glare at him.

The man shoved her face away, causing her head to whip back. He released a disgusted grunt. “You would do good to start talking now. The questions are only going to get _much_ harder than this. Why, we’re simply having friendly conversation right now. Do you really want to ruin that? Tell me why you were with the Vanguard’s second-in-command. Are you some hired maid?”

They thought she was a whore? Perhaps they hadn’t seen her weapons or armor before they blew them to shreds. Still, she kept her mouth shut. It was best for them to think that she was just a whore.

The man hummed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He tapped his fingers against his arm, seeming to think on something for a while. “You look familiar. You’re clearly Carja. Perhaps I have bed you before, if you are some whore.”

She snorted. “Unlikely.”

“Oh?”

“I would never sleep with Shadow Carja trash.”

She wasn’t all too surprised when his hand came cracking down across her face. She gasped, despite this, before gritting her teeth. No, she would not let them elicit pain from her. It would only make them seek more of it.

“Answer my question,” he said, voice controlled and cold. “Why were you with the Vanguard’s second-in-command?”

Holding her head up in defiance, she stared directly at the man’s mask and did not speak.

 _They know you’re not a whore,_ she realized. _Why would they question you if they thought you were simply just someone’s plaything? They had to have noticed the tattoo on your shoulder. They might be brutes, but they aren’t idiots._

The man grabbed her jaw again. “Tell me, little bitch.”

“I’m a Vanguard recruit,” she hissed out.

She was surprised when the two men within the room began to laugh, as if the very idea of such a thing was beyond anything they had imagined. The man released her face, shoving it away from him once more. She ground her teeth together.

“A Carja woman? In the Vanguard? What a fucking joke. They really are losing their touch if they’re recruiting tiny and weak women.” The man’s laughter bellowed against the walls, echoing within her head. “Come now, you can’t be more than that man’s wife.”

She licked her lips, but didn’t say anything more. Let them believe what they wanted. They were determined to not listen to her from the moment they had stepped through the door.

“Where were you and Kiln headed?”

The sound of his name coming from the man’s mouth had her belly twisting with disgust. She didn’t want him to know Kiln’s name. She didn’t want him to say it to her. She grit her teeth, turning her gaze away from the men.

She expected the next strike to her face, the flat of the man’s palm coming down hard across her cheek. The force of it nearly tipped over her chair, but she slid her feet out to catch herself.

“What was your mission, _woman?_ ” he yelled this, face inches from hers. She refused to look at him, instead staring at a corner of the room.

What did it matter to them? What did they want? Why capture them? She had her own questions that were going unanswered. Why were there still Eclipse operating?

“For fucks sake,” the man groaned. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

He snapped his fingers and the second man quickly stepped forward and walked behind her. She stiffened when he grabbed her head, fingers prying at her mouth. She released a startled sound, having not expected this.

Suddenly she knew what the pliers were for.

“If you’re not going to give me the information that I need, then let me leave you with a little something. Or rather, let me _take_ a little something from you.” His man held open her mouth as he moved his pliers within.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the cold metal clamped down around one of her back molars. She knew the pain was coming, she knew it was going to hurt _really_ bad, but she hadn’t expected the actual pain that shot through her. It was like a lightening bolt shooting through her jaw and down her neck as he pulled.

He didn’t do it quickly and she found herself screaming, yet she did not move, in fear that doing so would only worsen the pain. She felt tears roll down her cheeks, her fingernails biting into her palms.

Even after he had pulled the pliers from her mouth, with her tooth secured between the prongs, the pain did not stop. She felt blood fill her mouth, dribbling past the corner of her lips. She slumped forward, gasping for breath.

“When I come back, you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

She sucked in a shaky breath as she watched him drop her tooth onto the dirty ground. She stared at it through tear filled eyes before she spat blood from her mouth.

“Thanks,” she croaked out.

The man paused, looking down at her. “Excuse me?”

She looked up at him, forcing a smile. “That tooth was causing me problems anyway.”

This time, when he struck her, he did so with his fist. She barely felt the moment of impact before she was out again, body slumping against the chair, unconscious.

 

* * *

  


Kiln awoke with a start, the last memory he had was of seeing the Eclipse sending Aneta into unconsciousness before his eyes, throttling him soon after. He winced, feeling at a patch on his head where the hair matted with blood, noticing the manacles instantly. He took stock of his arrangement, finding himself alone, and pushed himself to his feet. He had been left naked from the waist up, but at least he had the assurance he felt when his eyes rested on his hammer. He knew why they kept it there, propped against the wall on the other side of the room. So close but beyond reach.

He twitched when he heard movement, but their captors weren’t coming for him.

He could only hear muffled voices beyond the wall, and though he strained to hear, his head buzzed with its own turmoil. He paced, the chains crackling almost  musically as they ran across eachother, anchoring him to the wall. He mentally thanked his captors for the slack on the restraints. There was a lot he could do with that much chain, once he learned the location of Aneta and his men.

When he heard the scream, he froze, his whole body going rigid. So, Aneta was close. Like his hammer, beyond his reach but not his knowledge. He ached for both. He murmured her name, as if it could invoke strength in her remotely.

When it was his turn, he squared himself off against the two Carja that entered. Only two. He wrinkled his nose, almost insulted. His eyes flicked from one to the other, sizing them up, letting them take the lead in this little dance. His hands at his sides flexed, fingers wrapping around the thick chains. They’d be out of here in no time.

“Didn’t even ask to take me out to dinner first,” he scoffed at the men, brandishing the chains. “Disgusting.”

“Do you always put on such a bravado?” The first man to enter the room approached him, though stopped several feet out of his reach. “We just got done visiting your little girlfriend. Or is she a wife? She wouldn't tell us. Shame, too, because she paid the price for keeping her little mouth shut.”

Kiln visibly sobered at what he could only imagine they’d done to Aneta. A vein in his shoulder stood out in stark contrast as he moved forward slowly, straining the chains. He wanted so much to fling them around the man’s neck and forcibly remove his head. At the absolute end of his reach, he leaned forward, teeth bared. “Eclipse, What a joke. Should have known you’d go for the woman first. She’s not even a very big one.” He stood up straight, hands lowering to his sides. “I can only assume the scream I heard was one of complete boredom. I don’t know what you want, or what you did with the scout party, but if you want anything out of me you’d best go get your husbands to come do the job for you.”

The two Carja looked at each other. The shorter one interlaced his hands and flexed his fingers, knuckles cracking, and with a rush the other whipped the butt of his spear up, nailing Kiln on the side of the jaw. The blow staggered him somewhat, but he’d been ready. He stood his ground, tasting the blood welling up into his mouth.

“If I ever find out you hit me,” he taunted.

A second jab, only this one wasn’t the butt of the spear. It sliced past a rib, in and out before the Oseram could grab it, splitting his flesh. He stepped back, almost surprised at the blood that surged from beneath his hand where he covered the wound. It was flesh only, but _that_ was something he didn’t expect. He lifted his eyes to the Carja, who seemed content to wait for any more sass from him, and tightened his lips.

“Who’s the girl?” The taller Eclipse demanded again, patiently.

“What girl? I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

The tip of the spear found the hollow of Kiln’s chest, right below his throat. The Oseram straightened, losing ground as he was pushed, slowly, back against the wall. Again, he slowly twisted the chain in his fist, ready to make this guy a necklace.

“The woman you were with in the spring!” The shorter Eclipse barked at him, a bit more impatient than the one with the spear. He brandished a knife, flipping it in his hand. “She claimed to be a recruit, but we find it hard to believe the Vanguard have stooped so low.”

Kiln rankled, but at the first sign of aggression, the blade of the spear pressed into his skin. The man was still too far for him to get to, not with the way he was pinned. “How do I know she didn’t get away? Maybe you don’t have her at all. Could have been anyone screaming.” His eyes flicked to the taller man, the one who seemed in charge. “Prove it. Bring her to me.”

The shorter man laughed, a derisive snort, like a pig. “You don’t get to make requests, Kiln.” He advanced, taking up a spot next to his comrade. “Yeah, we know who you are. We were hoping it’d be Erend come look for his little boys, but no… we get you.” The Carja spat on the ground derisively.

“What do you want,” Kiln demanded, sick of the blade in his throat. He put all the bravado he had into keeping his voice even.

“Meridian.”

Kiln ground his teeth together. “Still with that then? Helis is dead. Give it up. You lost.”

“Helis was just our champion,” said the taller Carja. “Wait until you meet our god.” He could imagine the shorter man leering at him from beneath his mask.

Kiln could feet the spearpoint grinding deeper, and he hissed with the pain of it pressing downwards, forcing him to kneel on both of his knees. He hated feeling so helpless.

“Now. We’ve got questions. And you’ll be here for as long as it takes to answer them. And you _will_ answer them.”

“Eat shit.”

The shorter Carja emitted a cry of barely repressed rage. He stalked forward, knife at the ready, but the arm of the taller one stopped him. “First, we want to know everything about Aloy.”

Kiln blinked at them in surprise. Aloy? How was she going to be their way into Meridian? The Oseram’s blood went cold. Unless they could get to Erend through her, or even Avad. His lips tightened again, and he leaned back, away from the spear. “Don’t know her.”

When the knife hit, he didn’t feel it at first. All he could do was stare as the Carja warrior tore it from his thigh and retreated with a huff of impatience. The muscle gave out, and he fell flat on his back against the stone wall.

The two Carja, satisfied their point had been made, straightened and stepped out of the cell, locking the door behind him. Kiln could only stare, eyes wide, as blood seeped from his wrecked leg. He was in utter shock.

His luck had officially run out.


	6. Chapter 6

Aneta was spitting blood upon waking, coughing. The pain in her jaw hadn’t faded and she felt as if it had only gotten worse. Was her face swollen? She wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Her jaw felt stiff and moving it only made matters worse. Her vision was blurry, her back aching from being forced to sit for so long. Her wrists felt raw already, despite the fact that she hadn’t been moving them.

She was sure something had woken her, though. That hung on her mind as she rose her head, attempting to quiet her breathing. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt, a constant ache within her chest.

The door scraping open reminded her of why she was awake. Her half-lidded eyes flickered to it, body shaky despite being seated. How long had she been out? How long had she gone without food?

She watched a man enter the room, but she wasn’t sure if it was the same as before. They all dressed so alike. Were they here to torture her some more? She knew that pulling a tooth was not the worst thing they had in store for her.

Forcing herself to hold her head high, she swallowed hard. It was then that she noticed the man was holding a tray. Her mouth watered at the sudden smell of soup and bread. She was embarrassed by the growl her stomach emitted.

“Hungry?” the man asked, his voice a purr that made her look away.

“I’d rather starve than eat anything you pigs have to offer,” she sneered, her hands gripped into fists. The Vanguard hadn’t prepared her for a situation like this, but she knew that the offering of food usually came with the want for information.

The man stood in front of her, silent for a few moments. She could feel his eyes on her, making her skin crawl. Still, she would not look at him. What difference would it make? All she would see was the faceless mask.

He held the tray closer to her face so she could get a good whiff of it. Some type of meat stew, probably made in a huge pot that could feed the whole camp. Somehow being offered a share of it made her stomach twist.

“You’re going to need to eat eventually,” he hissed. “We don’t need you dead.”

She looked at him now, eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

He crouched in front of her, picking up the spoon in the bowl to stir the stew. “What does anyone want in this world? Information. It’s more valuable than shards.”

Aneta shifted in the chair, swallowing hard. “What information do you want?”

His head tilted up and she knew he was looking at her. “Are you saying that you might be willing to give it?”

She snorted. “Is this how you treat every girl? Because this is the opposite of how you get laid. Just saying. But maybe if you start answering some of  _ my _ questions, I might be willing to answer some of yours.”

It was a lie and she hoped he couldn’t see through it. She wouldn’t give away anything, even if it meant dying. She would never betray her people, no matter what they did to her.

The man gave a great big sigh. “We don’t need you here. We can get rid of you at any second. We only need Kiln. If you aren’t going to be useful, then you are better dead.”

She leaned forward until her face was inches from his. “Then do it. Kill me.”

He stood and she could almost feel the air of disappointment radiating from him. “I don’t make the orders. But if I did, you  _ would _ be dead.”

With that, he turned and left the room. She sat there in silence for a long time, leaning back in her chair. She was thirsty and hungry and tired, yet there was nothing to sate it. She didn’t wish to be dead, though she was sure there would come a time when she would.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she was alone before the door opened again, revealing two men. One was carrying a bucket while the other was carrying a stack of cloth that she could only assume to be clothes.

Narrowing her eyes at them, confusion settled over her. It overshadowed the panic for a brief moment as the men approached her. The one with the bucket sat it down and brandished a key. He stepped behind her and she sat still as he unlocked her shackles. They fell to the ground and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Her thoughts raced over ideas on how to attack the men, how to get out of the room; they had left the door open and she could see a short hallway and another set of doors. If she could just…

Her feet were left shackled.

The man behind her twisted his fingers into her hair and forced her to stand. “Keep your hands at your sides.”

She sucked in a deep breath, staring at the man in front of her as he pulled her chair aside and sat the stack of clothes onto it. He pulled his knife from the belt at his hips and stepped forward, grabbing the front of her shirt.

Out of sheer instinct, her hands went up and one of her fists came crashing down across his jaw. It whipped his head to the side, causing him to stagger and drop his knife. It clattered to the ground, but Aneta was not able to grab for it before the man behind her grabbed her wrists, locking her arms against her back.

She released a fierce snarl, struggling against him. Her feet slid against the floor, cuffed and useless. She went to headbutt the man holding her, but a knife at her throat had her stilling. She gasped for breath, chest heaving.

“Try that again and you won’t get away with it. Your face might be pretty now, but we can make you the ugliest creature,” the man hissed.

His companion had recovered from the punch, a growl leaving his lips as he scooped up his knife and stepped forward again. This time he did not hesitate in slicing his blade down the front of her shirt, exposing the smooth and supple skin of her breasts. A trail of blood from her mouth had dribbled down her front, a perfect line between her breasts that smeared near her ribs.

He ripped the fabric from her body, tossing it to the dirty floor. “You’re filthy,” he sneered.

She released an angry scream as he went to cut away her underwear. She struggled against the man holding her, uncaring that the blade at her throat nicked her skin. “Stop!” she shrieked, wiggling uselessly in an attempt to get away from him.

He cut her underwear away regardless, tossing it to the floor as well. He seemed pleased when she began to suddenly sob, screaming and repeating the word ‘stop’ over and over again. He grabbed the bucket of water and brandished a scrub brush from it.

The bristles burned her skin, the soap harsh. She was sure that she was going to be raw when he finished. He had no issue in washing every part of her body and perhaps had some joy in it, which only made her feel sick. Despite acting tough previously, she was terrified.

She sobbed uncontrollably, shaking in an almost violent manner. She wanted to wake up and find this to be a nightmare. But she knew this wasn’t the worst that could happen - oh no, she knew the men could do much worse to her.

As it was, the man’s fingers occasionally brushed across her skin in a manner that was almost exploratory. Always near her thighs and chest, a thumb flicking across her nipples or fingers sinking far too high up her thigh.

It seemed to take forever for him to finish and she was almost relieved when the bucket of water was dumped on her, soothing the ache from the brush. She shivered despite the warmth of the water, blinking back tears.

Grabbing a towel, she was dried off and forced into the clothes that had been brought. It was a dress, similar to what she would wear back when she lived in Sunfall, minus all of the accessories. A sash was tied tightly around her waist, making her bruise ache.

At this point, she felt numb and could no longer cry. She simply stood there as they dressed her, though she wasn’t sure why they were putting her in such attire. She was a prisoner, not some noble woman.

When they took the shackles off her feet to slip sandals onto her feet, she considered fighting them again and making a run for it, yet a knife was placed at her throat once more. She didn’t struggle.

Once she was dressed, they shoved her forward, causing her to stumble, before she realized that they were pushing her out of the room. She found her feet and walked forward, brown eyes wide.

“Time for you to meet the Rising Sun,” one of the men hissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh, who's the Rising Sun?


	7. Chapter 7

It took hours to stop the bleeding, despite the fact Kiln knew his artery had been spared. His thumbs remained pressed into the spots they needed to be in order to minimize the loss, too scared to see it bleed anew should he remove the pressure. He didn’t know how long afterwards he sat there, waiting, his stomach growling and his pants drying with the blood he’d lost. His ears trained on every sound, but he didn’t dare call out. Not yet.

When they came again, they went across the hall once more, forcing him to straighten, straining his hearing for more information. He wasn’t sure if Aneta was the one he could hear, but soon his fears were realized when she began to yell, screaming at their captors to stop. 

He lurched forward, straining at the manacles, as if he could will his hammer to be closer, to topple over of its own accord. He was no longer concerned with the wound on his thigh, pushing himself to his feet. He yelled in answer to her screams, his hoarse throat dampening the noise. It was wordless, more of a roar of fury. He twisted his wrists in the iron clasps, wondering if breaking his hand could release one, at least. Perhaps he could almost reach…

When the voice broke into a repeated plea, just a single word, the mantra of ‘stop’, he flopped back against the wall. He groaned loudly at his helplessness, rubbing his palms into his eyes. Stupid and useless and why had he allowed her to come? He should have  _ known _ better. She had no business out here…

When the noises stopped and he could only hear a slosh of water, he took in a breath and held it, wallowing in the pain of not knowing. Was she unconscious? He almost wished it for her, wanted her to be somewhere she wouldn’t feel whatever it was they were doing. Did they want him to hear? Were they questioning her as well? What did she know that he didn’t?

Then he heard the soft movement of fabric and the muttered words of one of their captors. “Time for you to meet the Rising Sun.” He tracked the voice in a direction, vowing that the moment he had a chance, he would rip the owner of it in two. So he sat, twisting his wrists in the manacles, pulling at them like a caught fox, until the entire floor of his cell turned red with his blood.

* * *

 

It was a day before he heard anything more. Then it came, the sound of a door opening and the shuffling of feet. It grew louder as it approached his cell, one of the footsteps far too light to belong to a man, while the other two were heavy and accompanied by the sound of shifting metal. The footsteps hesitated behind the door before the familiar sound of a key sliding into a lock came.

Kiln watched that lock like a hawk, resting in the corner, back against the cold wall behind him. His arms rested crosswise over his knees, waiting in his little alcove of the cell. Whether he was expecting them or not wasn’t obvious. The hammer still rested against the opposite wall. He had been given nothing to eat or use as a weapon, so he had only his chains on his side. He’d managed to get one nearly entirely off, his left hand bruised and scraped in his attempts. But it had then started to swell from the injuries, so he’d given up, replacing the metal cuff on his wrist.

And so he sat, out of luck and certainly out of ideas. 

The door was pushed open and light streamed into the room, nearly blinding him for a moment. When he adjusted to it, three people had entered the room. A maskless man stood before the other two, his face rough from years of battle, a scar running from one cheek and across his nose. His hair was dark with bits of grey, combed back neatly.

Behind him stood Aneta, her eyes locked on Kiln, though there was no indication as to her emotions or thoughts. She was wearing clothes of a noble girl, the pink fabric a pleasant contrast against her tan skin.

The scarred man gave a sharp laugh. “And here I expected to see someone much tougher.” He gestured to Kiln, his brown eyes squinting with his grin. “You hardly look Oseram, boy.”

Kiln regarded each of the Eclipse as they entered with tired, half-closed eyes, but when his gaze found Aneta, strength seemed to surge into him anew. She was okay! The grin that messed his face up at seeing her again made it obvious he wasn’t too concerned about his visitors, despite knowing that he probably should be. 

The Oseram tore his eyes off the fellow Vanguard to appraise the man who was speaking to him. “Why thank you,” he attempted. “I hear they’re ungentlemanly and brutish.” He looked down at the floor, placing his hand on it to help himself to his feet. If Aneta was walking free, perhaps there was some way she could get his hammer into his hands. They’d make short work of these clowns. 

The scarred man turned to place a hand on Aneta’s shoulder, prompting her to step forward. He released her shoulder as she approached Kiln, her expression unreadable. She stopped just inches from him, her eyes flickering across his face.

“Tell them what they need to know, Kiln. Don’t fight this,” she whispered.

Things were getting weird. Kiln leaned hard against the wall, supporting himself where his leg couldn’t, his eyes on Aneta’s as he tried to find answers there. “Aneta,” he attempted, almost a plea for more information, his hand reaching out slightly, fingers brushing against hers. It was like he had to touch her again to believe she was real and okay. But… “What’s going on? Who are these guys…?”

Aneta lowered her gaze, a muscle in her jaw working.

“Tell him, Anetalie,” the scarred man said, his voice like rock on sandpaper. “Be a good girl now.”

“This is my father, Sahl.” Her eyes flickered up to meet Kiln’s, expression pleading. “You need to do as he says. If you do, you will be able to leave.”

It was obvious Kiln was being rubbed the wrong way with how the man was speaking to the other Vanguard, but when she claimed she knew who he was, his nose wrinkled. “Is that what he told you?” He lowered his head, looking at her from under his brows. “Aneta… let’s end these guys…” He tried to catch her gaze, trying to get her to see his confidence, trying to fuel her where it seemed she had none. His voice lowered to a whisper, and he flicked his eyes towards his hammer where it rested. “Just help me…” 

“I don’t want you to die!” she suddenly yelled, her voice echoing off the walls, shrill and panicked. She grabbed him by the face, holding him between her small hands. She lowered her voice the next time she spoke. “You  _ will _ die if you fight. Look at you, weak, unfed, wounded. You wouldn’t last more than a moment.”

Her words seemed to hurt him more than a spear to the side, breaking down his resolve. It was effective, because it was the truth. He lifted his hand, fingers circling around her wrist. His eyes dropped to the ground. Then, after a moment, they flicked up to the man called Sahl. He stood for a long, tense moment. “For you, I won’t fight him,” he whispered at a length.

“Good,” she whispered before releasing his face, taking a step back. She joined the guard by the door, her eyes downcast.

Sahl watched his daughter with eyes that mimicked a hawk, as if he needed to store every movement into memory. His smile had dropped upon her raising her voice, instead replaced with a scowl. Now those eyes of his flickered to Kiln, cold and unrelenting.

“My men tell me you are the captain of the Vanguard’s lieutenant. I was surprised when they said they had found you wandering the desert. Imagine my horror to discover it was with my own daughter, my flesh and blood.” He stepped forward, yet kept himself out of the younger man’s reach. “What mission were you on? What was so important that the captain of the Vanguard would willingly let his second-in-command leave without support?”

Kiln’s arms hung in front of him, as if the manacles were suddenly heavy. He certainly didn’t  _ look _ threatening, sure to make it obvious he was using the wall as support. But his eyes were very much sharp and alive as he watched Sahl. “Sand storms have been reported. We thought that’s how we lost two of our men. They were supposed to check in a week ago now.” He lip curled. “I imagine you’re responsible for their disappearances, huh?” His eyes flicked only briefly back to Aneta. She was so far away. “Easy recon trip. In and out. Nothing more.”

“Ah, yes, those two poor souls. I imagine the buzzards have gotten to them by now. They came too close to one of our bases.” Sahl eyed Kiln, his arms crossed over his chest. His fears for the men realized, Kiln emitted an exhale of remorse, closing his eyes. “Your captain must be a fool to send you on such a simple mission. With my daughter, no less.”

He turned then and began back towards the door, where he paused in front of Aneta. She did not meet her father’s eyes, even when he took her jaw in his hand, brushing his thumb over her chin.

“Take your time,” he said, his voice affectionate, as if he were telling her he had just gotten her a pet.

She gave a dull nod.

Sahl and his guard left the room then, the door shutting loudly, though there was no sound of it locking. A shuffle of feet signaled that they were leaving the two of them alone, unguarded. Aneta seemed to not react to this, instead simply standing there, staring down at the ground.

Once the men were gone, Kiln seemed to lose all the strength he’d had left. He sank down to the floor, breathing hard, and Aneta could see him at his most vulnerable. Where his heart wanted to rend every man standing in the room, his starved body wasn’t going to keep up. His eyes lifted to hers, head tilting slightly. “Anetalie,” he repeated the man’s name for her, tasting it. “What did they do to you?”

Aneta parted her lips to speak, but seemed to have nothing to say.

Finally, after a moment of silence, she approached him once more, her gaze gentle and apologetic. “They showed me things, Kiln. Crazy, beautiful, things. If only I could show  _ you _ . They have a plan that’s greater than us.” She sounded unsure of her own words.

Kiln could only stare up at her. The Oseram weren’t known for their… spiritual tendencies. “A plan,” he repeated, slightly incredulous. “They killed Hund and Fier! They were  _ kids _ , Aneta…” He lowered his head, pressing a hand to his eyes. “If he really is your father…” If what? His head pounded from dehydration, and now that he wasn’t talking for his life, it was taking revenge for the effort he’d made. “Please… let’s just get out of here. Let me take you home..” 

She stared at him, eyes wide and frightened. “I will bring you food when I can. The first chance I get. You’re going to need it.” Taking in a deep breath, she seemed to gather herself. “You need to send a message. You will be going home, just not with me.”

She wasn’t making any sense to him. He could only stare up at her, frowning with confusion. Then, slowly, seemed to start to put pieces together. “Did you plan this all along? This was a trap or something?” He twitched, remembering how playful she was in the spring, drawing him into a false sense of security. His fingers balled into fists, resting on his thighs. “I’m a fucking … idiot.” 

Blinking as if she had been slapped, her eyes snapped up to look at him. She parted her lips to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong and that she hadn’t played him. Tears sprung to her eyes, her chest tight with the urge to sob. She didn’t love him, hardly knew him, yet she felt a connection with him that was being shattered right before her eyes.

“Maybe it’s best if you believe that,” she whispered. “Because then you won’t come for me. Not that I would expect you to - or want you to. This is my place,  _ here. _ Father says it’s where I belong. It’s where…  _ He _ says I belong.”

She didn’t elaborate on who this ‘He’ was, instead leaving it to hang in the air.

With a tear rolling down her cheek, she back up towards the door. “I’ll bring you food and water. I will be back.” She spun around and placed her hand on the door handle, yet didn’t move. As if afraid to leave.

Kiln watched her from where he rested on the floor, tensing as she put her hand on the door. Apparently thinking they’d get visitors again, he lurched to his feet once more, wobbling. That’s when he saw the bruise on the side of her cheek. His lips tightened, eyes locked on the wound, but he didn’t point it out. Her tears were yet another clue… things weren’t quite what she claimed. “Don’t leave if you don’t think you can come back,” he told her, flatly, making it obvious how he felt despite his strong words before. “Stay with me.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “You’re weak. You need food and water. You’ve already gone too long without it. I will be back.” She seemed more sure of herself this time, pulling open the door and leaving before he had a chance to say anything more.

* * *

 

True to her word, Aneta returned, carrying a canteen of water, a tray of food, and a satchel with supplies to treat his wounds. The food consisted of meat and bread, a simple meal that would fill his belly without making him sick. She closed the door behind her and approached without hesitation, as if she had rebuilt her confidence while gone.

She knelt, holding out the canteen, as making sure he had water was her first priority. “Please drink,” she whispered, as if she needed to be quiet in the dim room.

Kiln hadn’t looked up when she arrived, but the canteen she held out to him wasn’t something he could easily ignore. Sure it wasn’t brew, but he drank it like it was, draining the entirety, and shoving the empty canteen away. “Why am I even being kept alive?” he wanted to know. “If Erend was who they wanted…” His gaze was still slightly accusing when he leveled it at her, despite himself. “Or you. Why bother with me?”

The wound in his side was the obvious one, but it had already started to heal. His right thigh, however, was caked in blood, and the heat of his skin promised infection. He watched her as he reached for the dried meat, stomach growling. She looked so fresh and clean despite her bruises, while he felt like a pile of spare parts. Probably looked as much, as well.

She sat her satchel of supplies down, shifting through it to find what she needed. Another smaller canteen, which she used to dampen a cloth. “Erend will believe anything you tell him. You’re close. I was just…” she trailed off with a sigh. “We were here for a reason. Both of us. It might be hard to believe or stomach, but it’s true. Just trust me, okay?”

Carefully, she began to clean the gash on his thigh, keeping her gaze there. His hand quickly went over her wrist, pulling away her hand with the cloth. “Don’t,” he said, his voice a soft tone. He worked it free of her hand, using it on himself, scowling down at his wound. He either  _ didn’t _ trust her, or just didn’t want to have to deal with her touching him at the moment. At a length, he spoke. “This needs stitching, if I’m going to be well enough to betray my Captain,” he spat. He tore the cloth of his trousers a little farther, frowning to see the extent. 

“You’re not betraying anyone,” she hissed. “You’re going to tell them the truth. You’re going to tell them that the Eclipse are  _ not _ dead. They’re stronger now than they have ever been. Helis was simply a martyr to the cause.”

She dug through her bag, clearly frustrated. She pulled out a needle and thread, readying it with practiced ease. She laid it on her lap briefly as she grabbed a tin of salve. Twisting off the cap, she glared at him before holding it out.

Kiln seemed a little taken aback by the news. Helis wasn’t the ringleader after all? He blinked at her, confused as he took the salve from her hand. He held it for a moment, obviously trying to put this whole puzzle together with his limited knowledge and the fuzziness in his brain. He might as well as forgot she’d given it to him. His eyes once more rose to her face, to the bruise there, and his brows scrunched over his eyes. He set aside the salve and lifted a hand, carefully, fully expecting her to draw back, reaching out to tilt her jaw just slightly. “He hurt you.” 

Swallowing hard, her expression softened and she leaned into his touch. “Not as much as he could have. Things could be a lot worse.” She gave a weak laugh. “At least I don’t look as bad as you.”

It was a gentle spoken tease, one she hoped would brighten his mood even just the slightest. It caused just the slightest twitch in his cheek, his lips to tug in a half smile. It made him feel good to know she was still there. He took a bite of the meat she’d brought, not letting him focus on just how much his stomach growled to know it was there. 

“No offense, Aneta. But your dad is a dick. Still, think you could arrange for one of those cronies to end up in here alone? Maybe give me a nice spongebath? I think he’d like that.” 

Aneta gave him a look, picking up the needle from her lap. “You’d do good with a bath.” She scooted closer to him, reaching out to place her hand on his thigh, a hesitant touch that silently asked for permission.

For a moment, Kiln seemed to tense at her touch, but then his addled brain seemed to remind him that there was a gash practically to the bone there. Wordlessly, he leaned back against the wall of the cell, his eyes on her. His skin around the wound was definitely hotter than the rest, which was never a good sign, but it could get better with more water and a few choice herbs. Kiln reached out and dragged the tray closer, checking for those herbs, hoping to find one for pain as well.

“Not how I imagined this going,” he finally admitted to her, leaving an open interpretation as to what he meant by ‘this’.

She didn’t respond right away, putting her focus into stitching his wound together. She was biting at her bottom lip, as if she wanted to say something that she couldn’t. She felt withered, as if the past two days had been years. Her hands still shook, her chest still tight.

The clothes she wore certainly did not match the personality that she had given off since the two of them had met. It made her look smaller, defenseless. As if any man could crush her like a bug on stone.

“It will not get better,” she whispered. “It will get much worse. But I want to help.”

She seemed to come to a new resolve, her chest puffing with confidence. She finished stitching up his thigh and cut the thread at the end. With that, she left the satchel beside him. Standing from her spot, she quickly crossed the room and hefted his hammer into her hands.

“I don’t have the key,” she huffed as she brought it over. “But one of the guards that checks on you does.”

She dropped the hammer in front of him, letting it clatter to the floor, the sound echoing off the walls. Her eyes searched his face, her jaw tight, before she slowly nudged the weapon towards him with her toes.

Kiln had lifted his head from where it rested against the stone behind him, all his attention on Aneta and his hammer. When she dropped it before him, his grin broke out across his face. 

“Why need a key? This is my key.” He reached out, hefting it to his shoulder like a long lost lover. “I’ll have a little surprise for them when they come by next.” He looked down at the stitching on his skin, then back up to her. His smile faded. “Thank you,” is all he could think to say. 

He was surprised when she stepped forward and cupped his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his in an urgent manner. She pulled away just as sudden, her gaze flickering across his face. “I want you to get out of here. I’m sorry that you thought I tricked you. I didn’t plan any of this. But you don’t have to believe me.”

Kiln was left stunned into silence, watching her, as if amazed she’d even  _ want _ to kiss anyone in the state he was in. He gave her a half smile, a wistful expression. 

“I trust you,” he told her quietly. “But if I’ve got the opportunity to get us both out of here, you better bet I’m not leaving you behind.” He curled his fingers around her wrist where it held the side of his head. “And you better bet you’re buying the first rounds when we get back.” He refused to believe she wouldn’t leave with him, it seemed.

She laughed, the sound breathless. “You’re a fool. A hopeful soul. This world doesn’t deserve people like you.” She tore herself from him and turned towards the door. She did not look back at him as she left, letting him absorb her words for whatever he might decide they meant. 

Kiln watched her go, his smile fading quickly from his face. He turned towards the satchel she’d left, digging around again for more of the herbs to put under his tongue, still finding it difficult to brush aside the pain. He chewed slowly, almost bored as he used his hammer to push himself up to his full height. His eyes settled on where the chains connected to the wall, the same spot he’d tried and tested for the past two days. He hefted the hammer and, muscles straining, brought it down on the chains with a sharp clang that echoed through the cell. 

He was out of breath by the time the heavy chains snapped off, cursing his pounding heart. He rested for a moment on his hammer, then began to snake the chains through the manacles, letting their weight drop to the ground. He felt much lighter without them, and for the first time in days seemed capable of taking a breath. He staggered to the door, testing the handle. 

It turned and the door opened.

“Sweet woman,” he praised Aneta under his breath, poking his head out to peer down the corridor. There was only one other door at this end, and it stood open. He was sure that’s where he’d heard her crying out. Facing the darkness, he hefted his hammer. So, it seemed his luck was slowly beginning to return.

Each turn on his journey brought little information as to where he was, or how to get out. They were all the same, and soon he’d begun to start scraping the butt of his hammer on the stones to indicate where he’d already been. He had seen or heard no one for the extent of his journey, so when he ran face-first into an Eclipse as they were both rounding a corner, they were equally surprised. The man let out a yell of warning, reaching into his pocket for what Kiln would assume was a knife or warning device, so the Oseram splattered the man against the wall with a swift strike.

“Shh,” the Vanguardsman taunted, leaning over the Carja he’d felled, holding a finger to his lips. He surveyed the carnage, helping himself to the man’s bloodied tunic, wincing as he drew the armor over the stab in his side. He checked the pockets, dismayed to see that it’d been a blast bomb that had awaited him. Kiln helped himself, glad to see the man even had a flask. It was ale, but Kiln nonetheless washed it down with a vigor. 

Already feeling better, he drew his hair back, matted with the blood from his head, and secured it away from his eyes. The place was dark enough, and perhaps he’d look just different enough to fool someone long range. He thanked his now-exposed friend before returning to his journey, hoping that the direction he’d been coming from was somewhere with sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up!


	8. Chapter 8

_She had been forced onto her knees, body still shaking from her ‘bathing.’ Her limbs protested against any form of being upright, her stomach twisting in hunger. She felt that she might faint like some noble girl who had seen violence for the first time. At least she was no longer shackled. Perhaps she could fight her way out of this after all._

_When she raised her eyes to scan the room around her, she found that it was hardly furnished, with a simple rug made of straw, a table with a spread of food across it, a few chests that she could only assume held weaponry or armor, and a large chair that resembled a throne. How pretentious._

_There was a door close to the throne-like chair, perhaps leading to a room for sleep. Or it could lead outside, where she could make her escape and later return for Kiln with backup. She shifted eagerly at the thought._

_“Stay down,” one of the guards, who had brought her in, told her._

_She grit her teeth, the pain in her jaw becoming a sort of resolve. It could help her focus, keep her in the present. Her thoughts raced, eyes flickering across the room._

_One of the guards walked out of the room, leaving her alone with the one who had scrubbed her body clean. She felt a chill at the back of her neck, her hands turning to fists at her sides. There was only the two of them, her thoughts kept repeating. Take him out. Take him out_ **_now_ ** _._

_She spun, grabbing one of his knives from his belt. She slid one of her legs out, knocking him off his feet before he could react. She scrambled away from him, fighting to move within the fabric of her dress. She hadn’t worn one in three years and it felt constricting._

_Twisting up onto her feet, she brandished the knife as her chest heaved with quick breath. The man was already standing, far too close to her. She couldn’t jump back fast enough._

_“You little bitch,” he growled out as he came at her. She slashed the knife through the air. He cried out as it struck his exposed bicep, drawing blood._

_She danced away from him as he lunged for her, but then he was grabbing his spear and she found herself trying to get as far from him as possible. Of course, the odds would never be equal. If anything, they had prepared for her attack. They weren’t foolish enough to believe she was completely defenseless, were they?_

_He swung his spear at her, the blade just barely missing her. It caught on the side of her dress, ripping it. She grabbed the spear just under the blade, attempting to twist it out of his hands. She was sure she had it when she heard a loud beep._

_That’s when the pain struck her. She fell onto her hands and knees before sinking down onto her belly, her lips parted in a silent scream. She couldn’t open her eyes as electricity coursed through her body, tightening all of her muscles until she found herself curling up into a ball. She could feel the shock from the tips of her hair to her toes, knocking the breath from her._

_When it stopped, she was gasping for breath, palms pressing into the floor as she fought to open her eyes. Her cheek rubbed against the rough carpet as she turned her head, footsteps nearing her._

_She saw boots with metal points that came off the toes like claws, which dug into the carpet with every step. Her eyes flickered up to the wearer, finding the typical Eclipse mask, except this man had tied bullets to the sides of his, a constant reminder of the Deathbringers they had dug up so many years ago._

_From one look at him, she knew he was some sort of leader. He stood over her like someone who knew he could destroy her with a single flick of his wrist. She was not oblivious to the gun in his hands._

_With the toe of his boot, he shoved her onto her back, the talons pricking her skin. She grit her teeth, fists clenched._

_“Anetalie?”_

_Her whole body stilled at his voice, eyes widening in her sudden panic. It was a different panic than the one she felt at the fear of dying. No, there was something she was more afraid of than that. Something far worse than death._

_“What happened to you? You’re not my little girl.” He leaned down and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her onto her knees. She slumped there, palms pressing into the ground as she gasped for breath, still attempting to adjust after having been shocked._

_“You’re dead,” she whispered. “You’re dead and I’m dreaming. I’m having a terrible nightmare.”_

_Her gaze flickered up just in time to watch the man pull his mask from his face, brushing his hood back. He sneered at her, his disgust apparent. Still, she couldn’t believe her own eyes, staring both in wonder and horror._

_“Father,” she hiccupped the word. “You were dead! I_ **_buried_ ** _you!”_

_He gave a sharp laugh. “Girl, I’m not sure who you buried, but it wasn’t me. Best you have believed it, though. You would have only caused me trouble.”_

_Aneta’s eyes stung with tears, her chest aching. “You left mom, Laly, and me! You left us and I had to fend for us! We were thrown to the_ **_wolves_ ** _. They wanted to eat us alive for what you had done!”_

_He snorted, rolling his brown eyes. They shared the same brown, though her eyes were wide like her mother’s. Still, their similarities were still apparent; they shared the same tan skin, hair a dark auburn, and a smile that was crooked when it was sincere. Not that anyone would see this man genuinely smile._

_Her hand darted out to grab the knife she had dropped. Within a moment she had it buried deep within his thigh, a growl of anger ripped from her throat._

_The man hardly reacted, only emitting a grunt of discomfort as he stared down at what she had done. He reached down and grabbed her by the hair holding her at a distance as he wrapped his other hand around the handle of the knife, tugging it free._

_He pressed the bloodied blade to her throat. “I would be careful, girl. I do not have much use for you.”_

_She spit in his face, her saliva still holding blood from her tooth being pulled. It splattered across his scarred nose. “Fuck you!”_

_He gave a great sigh. “You truly turned into a disappointment. I had better hopes for you, Anetalie.”_

_She clawed at his arm, attempting to free herself from his clutches. “You were better off dead! You should have died alongside Helis!”_

_With little effort, he drug her towards the door that she had noted earlier, the one she had hoped to be an escape. She kicked her feet, releasing angry screams as her fingers dug into the fabric that was wrapped around his arms, the accompanying bullets scratching her skin._

_He pushed open the door and tossed her inside, to which she scrambled away from him, slipping in the silky confines of her dress. He shut the door after him, as calm as one would be upon having a friendly conversation with someone._

_“Helis warned me that love would complicate my beliefs. He told me again and again how I shouldn’t depend on my family. The only thing I needed was the cause. If you were meant to be, then you would live to see the New World.” He stepped forward and she found herself pinned between him and a bed._

_“The Sun saw to it that you never saw that world! It was the will of the Sun that the battle of the Spire was won by Meridian!” she cried, her back bumping into the edge of the bed. She braced herself, eyes flickering around the room._

_It was small, made simply for sleeping and perhaps keeping a few belongings. It did not hold anything of use._

_“I see now that the Sun was not ready to relinquish control to the Buried Shadow. The time had yet to come and we would be more prepared the second time.” He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small device._

_Aneta recognized it, as she had seen her father - and many others within Sunfall - where it. Somehow she felt it was corrupt, her heart slamming into her throat as her father neared. He grabbed her by the throat and forced the device over her ear, unfaltering when she struggled against him._

_Then she heard the voice._

* * *

 

Aneta’s fingers brushed over the Focus above her right ear, staring ahead as her father spoke with his men. He had allowed her to bring Kiln food and to take medical supplies to him. He seemed to suddenly trust her now that she wore the device. He did not keep an eye on her as she stood within the room, scanning objects. She never knew how useful a Focus could be. She had only had it for a day and it was already becoming an extension of her being. She knew where she was, how many people were here, and how she could escape.

It wouldn’t be easy and she knew she wouldn’t get far before she was captured. Really, it was useless to try. Her father locked her within a room at night, leaving her no time to escape. At least that room had had a bed.

She sucked in a deep breath, rubbing at one of her arms. She felt restless, waiting for Kiln to get to where he needed to be. She resisted the urge to bounce on her feet, feeling jittery. How long was this going to take?

She jumped when Sahl dropped a heavy hand atop her shoulder.

“Come,” he said and she followed, her heart hammering within her chest. She didn’t like this. No, she _hated_ this. Still, her father guided her out of the room with a hard hand. “Has he spoken to you since?”

“Yes,” came her quick reply, though it was sharp and hardly more than a hiss.

Her father continued to lead her forward. “What did he say?”

“That is for me to know,” she snapped. “Clearly, or he would have told you.”

Sahl sneered, his hand tightening on her arm. She swatted it off, the movement braver than she thought it would be.

“Don’t touch me.”

“You will do good to mind your manners,” he grunted.

Aneta did not respond, instead turning her gaze to the row of windows to her right. The view was amazing and one she was familiar with. It filled her with nostalgia that was quickly squashed upon the reminder that her current situation was less than idea.

Still, she was going to be spending a lot of time here.

“Do you think a god can feel pain?” she inquired, folding her hands in front of her.

“What an odd question.” Sahl looked at his daughter, taking her in as if for the first time. He reached out and carefully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You should not have cut your hair. It’s ugly.”

If Kiln or any of the Vanguard had said something like that, she would have laughed and nudged them with her elbow. But her own father? It stung like a blade to her chest. His words were not meant to rile her up in a positive way. His words were meant in truth, to make her hate herself and work to better who she was.

“It will grow back.” She couldn’t look at him, her eyebrows pinching together in a frown. “Give it a month.”

“You used to have such beautiful hair like your mother. She was a truly striking woman. Such a shame that you did not turn out like her.” He gave a long sigh.

Aneta ground her teeth together, wincing. A voice in her ear told her to calm herself, so she did. She took in a deep breath and released it slowly. “She misses you.”

“Pity,” was all he had to say.

They finally made their way out of the hallway and stepped into an ornate room, filled with golden designs and pillars that reached to the high ceiling. Murals were painted along every surface, done by the great Sun-King Marzid. Beautifully carved doors lined the circular room, leading to other rooms within the palace.

She did not look twice at the room, unamused by the sight of it. She had never stepped foot within, yet had heard plenty of stories from her father - before he had become corrupt by Helis’ vision.

She was led out to the large balcony, where several chairs sat, one of them being a throne where the Mad Sun-King used to sit and watch his wonderful fights. Now she approached it with a racing heart and an empty pit in her belly. She walked up the three steps that led to the ledge and approached the balcony. Her hands smoothed over the sun warmed stone, finding it dustless.

The Sun Ring stood before her, rebuilt to its former glory, though it no longer had the lift that dropped victims into the arena, having been destroyed by the Nora woman. Still, the ring stood as a testament to a world before the fall of Sun King Jiran.

Her gaze roamed along the many who sat within the stands, cheering for bloodshed. Oh how nothing had changed. The residents of Sunfall were still the racist fools that they had been three years before.

Sahl stepped in beside her, drawing more cheers from the crowd. Aneta stood tall, willing herself to not panic within the face of those she had fought so hard to run from.

A Behemoth paced around within the holy pit, agitated by the noise that surrounded it. Aneta felt some pity for the beast, yet ultimately despised it. Her feelings towards it would change depending on the outcome of this whole mess.

Sahl raised his hands and the crowd silenced to listen to what he had to say. Aneta hated the power he had over them. Her father had not changed over the years. He had simply grown more powerful. It was a dangerous game.

“Sunfall,” his voice carried throughout the ring, calling forth more cries of joy. “Today I bring you specticle. No longer will we stay within hiding, for the Sun and Shadow has brought us a savior, one that can bring us what we desire - a new world order! The Shadow has spoken and it has chosen a daughter from its darkness, one who will guide us to our goal.”

Swallowing hard, Aneta tried not to fight against what her father was saying. It all had to be a ploy. The voice of the Shadow may have spoken to her, but she surely did not believe what it had said, did she?

Before Helis’ death, she had been a strong believer of the Sun. She had followed the religion of the people at Sunfall. Yet she had joined the Vanguard to escape it all, to start anew. Perhaps that was not what she had been meant to do. Perhaps the Vanguard had only been her training.

“Today we celebrate her arrival with the spilling of blood,” Sahl continued. “We have with us none other than the Vanguard’s second-in-command. Let his death signify the beginning of our rise to victory.”

Just as he said this, a pair of gates pulled open, revealing Kiln behind it, holding his hammer in both hands. The Behemoth had yet to see him, distracted by the sounds of cheers that erupted within the crowd, yet it would soon be charging at him.

Head held high, Aneta folded her hands in front of her, attempting to stand strong in her resolve. “Let it begin,” she whispered, her eyes glued to Kiln.

* * *

 

His eyes stung when the gates fell open to his touch. There was an odd roaring sound, something he couldn’t quite place, and he staggered out into the open, lifting his hand to shield himself from the blaze in the sky, cursing it. They’d told him it was the same sun that shone over the Claim, but times like these had him questioning the science behind that.

The roar he heard grew louder, and he lowered his hand, squinting in the bright light, his teeth bared. The first thing he saw was the walls. They surrounded him. Heat slithered off the sand in waves like water, blurring his vision, but he could see where he was. Quickly, he turned to dive back into the gate, but it suddenly slammed shut behind him. He’d been followed. He’d been released. He’d been led to believe he had a chance.

The roar of the people in the stands drew his attention, and he scowled up at them. He saw Sahl almost instantly, and wanted to spit in the man’s direction. If only he had his bow…

His grip choked up on his hammer as he began to stalk across the sands, not letting the pain in his leg manifest in a limp. There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly he saw the Behemoth. It churned the sand not far from him, unconcerned at first, but when he took a step back, its attention was upon him. He swallowed hard.

His eyes once more lifted to the parapet Sahl was on, perched like a vulture over his sun ring. The wind picked up, fluttering a wisp of Aneta’s dress. She was there, standing next to her father.

His heart dropped to his stomach. The world seemed at once to phase to black and white, and he lowered his hammer slowly, face falling. Her face was a smooth stone mask, as if her own heart stood still while his pounded.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He howled his challenge up at the both of them, his broken-hearted words ringing across the pit as the Behemoth turned to face him, steam rising from its outlet valves. The roar of the crowd only served to awaken him, bringing him back to the present. He turned his green eyes to the machine he was imprisoned with, reaching up to tighten his scarf around his nose and mouth, preparing for battle. He couldn’t splatter Sahl’s brain, so he’d make do with the Behemoth. He choked up on his hammer, widening his stance. He would let the machine cross the distance… he knew he couldn’t rely on his leg to get him far.

He tried to remember just where Aneta had focused on their last battle, remembering how the arrows would ricochet off the armor. He needed to get that armor off, and he needed to figure out how to get that barrel to explode again. Only hopefully this time with him farther away.

As expected, the thing charged at him. His eyes widened as he waited for the last second, waited for that little skip in its gait that meant it was about to shovel its head into him and send him flying.

He let himself fall to the side, just barely missing the sharp grinders on the things face, the edges of its armor. His heart was throbbing, giving him the strength he needed while his head screamed horrible ideas at him. He decided to go with one of those horrible ideas, swinging his hammer up, letting the spike on the back land between two plates of armor and stick there. When the beast thundered past, it tore him from his place, dragging him with it.

Kiln scrambled onto the machine near its neck, praying to the forge that it didn’t see his foolish move and simply crush him there. The crowd around him jeered as the Oseram climbed, coming out on top of the beast, hanging on for dear life as it bucked furiously. He thought he might be sick as he wrenched at the armor housing, sending wires bleeding dark fluid to flail like snakes, his hammer coming down to jar apart connections.

Up on the balcony, Aneta watched with her hand to her chest, as if it would quiet the rapid beating of her heart, which pounded in her ears. She watched Kiln’s every move, muttering under her breath small encouragements that no one could hear over the cheering crowd.

Kiln was making a showing, it was true. He could barely hang on as the machine below him swung its mighty head, forcing the Oseram airborne save the grip he maintained. When he landed, pain shot through his thigh up his side, but he only let it fuel his thirst for this thing’s demise. He could see the power canisters now, so close.

The thing stilled at once, and Kiln found the lack of motion a gift. He hammered, shards of armor flying from the machine as he dug in. Unbeknownst to him, however, the stones around them were starting to shiver, to rise from the ground. The crowd knew what was happening. Many stood, shouting in excitement, jeering the Oseram guard in what they were betting were his final moments.

When he heard the zapping of electricity, Kiln looked up, suddenly recalling the sound from one of the first times he’d heard it. His eyes went wide, and he tried to flee, but his thighs had been locked around the machine’s neck in his attempt to dig into it. He hadn’t a chance. He pushed off just as the Behemoth reared, coming down with a massive explosion of force and sound that threw Kiln far across the battlefield, skidding like a meteor across the sand.

By the time the dust had settled, it was obvious getting up for him wasn’t easy. He’d lost his hammer, so had nothing to lean against as he stumbled, shaking his head, trying to clear it as the Behemoth rounded on him once more. He was, to say the least, done for.

The charge sent him several more yards, and though the armor took most of the force, the already injured Oseram still slammed against the wall of the ring just under the parapet Sahl and his men were sitting in, forcing a few to stand and leer out over the balcony in order to see him. Kiln slid down the wall slowly, his head leaning forward over his chest, slumped on the ground. He was out cold, blood trailing from the corner of his lips.

Aneta felt her heart lurch into her throat, eyes wide as she stared down at him. She only stood there for a second’s time before she was rushing away, her feet carrying her within the palace. She tore bits of her dress from her and tied one side up so it was easier to move.

When she found the weapon’s room, she was quick to grab the first bow she saw, along with a quiver. Her heart was a constant hammering ache within her chest. He had to be dead now, she was sure, unless the Behemoth had been distracted once more. Perhaps the lack of Kiln’s movement would stall the machine.

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, slinging the quiver over her shoulders as she made her way down a set of halls. When she reached the gate that led into the ring, she pulled it open, groaning at the effort of it.

The moment the opening was big enough to slip through, she rushed into the ring. The Behemoth was roaming around again, seemingly calmed for now. Not for long. If it killed Kiln, then she was going to kill _it_.

Her gaze flashed to the form of Kiln’s unmoving body, across the ring from her. She sucked in a deep breath and drew her bow, nocking in an arrow. The crowd only grew louder in excitement, which made her find a new confidence in herself.

The Behemoth finally took notice of her, body sparking from the damage Kiln had already done to it. Aneta let her first arrow fly and it soared true, hitting its mark. One of the components on its hip exploded, making the machine stagger.

It didn’t stay still for long, rearing its head up before charging at her.

Cursing, Aneta bolted to the side, dodging the creature as it slammed head first into the wall. The debris flew at her, but she kept running, eyes wide and chest heaving. She released a string of curses, glad that her sandals were tight fitted, even if they were useless for situations like this.

She skidded to a stop once she was at a distance, whirling around with her bow raised. She managed to release two arrows into its underbelly before she was having to run again. The crowd’s cheers rose again and she hoped that they hadn’t seen who she was - that the distance of the high balcony had made it impossible to make out her face.

The Behemoth charged and hit a pillar that she was far too close to, sending her flying. She hit the ground on her side and rolled before coming to a stop against the wall. She looked up in time to see that the Behemoth was pulling its head out of the pillar.

She scrambled to her feet, yet her head swam from being thrown. She readied her bow, letting an arrow fly at its tank. This time it caught and she was once again thrown back, though this time it was by the explosion.

Aneta flew several feet, landing hard on her back. Her head hit the ground with a crack and her face scrunched up from the pain. She forced herself to sit up, listening to machine parts fall around her, smoking and hot. The crowd was going wild, but she could only drag herself up while gasping for breath.

Kiln. She had to get to Kiln.

Stumbling for a moment, as she caught her bearings, she made her way towards where he lay. However, she found herself stopping at the center of the ring, staring up at the stands that surrounded her. The people had been screaming for her death only moments earlier, yet now they were cheering for her victory. A victory that should have belonged to Kiln.

They were disgusting.

She wanted to shout at them, to call them all out on their bullshit, but she knew it would do little good. She wasn’t like that Nora girl; her words would not come as a speech to degrade those who sat here. She wasn’t good a speeches and had never given one in such an open place.

So with a snarl of annoyance, she strode forward and dead towards Kiln. Her chest felt tight and heavy, sweat beading on her brow. He was still unconscious, possibly dead. By the Sun, she prayed he was not dead.

She closed the remaining distance by running, skidding to a stop in front of him and falling to her knees. Her hands went to his face, brown eyes wide. “Kiln,” she gasped out. “Kiln, you better not be dead.”

Ducking her head, she pressed her ear to his chest and found a heartbeat. A hiccupped sob left her lips in her relief, tears springing to her eyes.

He was definitely down, but not out. She could hear his heart strong in his chest despite the thick armor, and he even moved slightly. Her name lingered, croaked through parched lips as he saw her, eyes squinted tight against the sun. He had no doubt she’d felled the machine just as she’d done the first, and the thought of having missed it brought a half-smile to his lips.

He really was a mess. The work she’d done on his stitches had broken open, and his hands were scorched by metal burn. One of them moved, carefully, reaching into his pocket. Could they see what he was doing, so far up on those stands?

He took her hand, pressing something into it, closing his fist over it tightly. The shape of it felt familiar. A blast bomb. His only one.

She pocketed it, careful to not let anyone see. “You did it. You lived. Everything is going to be okay now,” she promised in a whisper. “You get to go home now, Kiln.”

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that several guards had entered the ring, the blades of their spears glinting in the sun. She knew she was going to need to give up Kiln again, she would need to say goodbye to him now.

She turned back to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Tell Erend I’ll miss him, okay? Elof too.”

Her words weren’t exactly what he was hoping to hear, so his smile faded somewhat before falling into a tight-lipped scowl. He opened his mouth as if to say something, something probably fairly snarky, but then he, too, caught sight of the warriors advancing. He pushed himself up with a wince, his other hand reaching out, gripping her to help him to his feet. He was ready for whatever was coming, feeling the finality in her voice. But he wasn’t going to let her go without one last kiss. He tasted like blood and sweat, stealing the gesture from her quickly.

She cupped one of his cheeks in her hands, pulling away all too quickly. “Goodbye, Kiln.”

The guards were close now and she had to force herself to her feet. She sucked in a deep breath, taking one final look at him before turning away. Her throat felt tight as she headed towards the gate. She could almost feel her father’s eyes on her from up on the balcony. It had her hands shaking, lips pressed into a thin line.

“You are weak,” her father’s voice came in through her Focus.

She grit her teeth, sucking in a deep breath. “The Behemoth is dead. You didn’t say it had to be killed by _him_.”

“It was implied,” came Sahl’s gruff voice.

“The machine is dead. He wounded it enough for me to take it down. Now let him go free.” She tossed down the bow as she continued walking, heading towards the room where Sahl did the majority of his planning. There would be priests there. She felt she needed to talk to one, if only to rant about how she felt without the fear of others knowing her thoughts.

Sahl sighed. “So be it.”

She bit her bottom lip, relief washing through her. He would leave and he would live. Everything was going to be okay, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... things get pretty canon divergent after this.


	9. Chapter 9

Kiln’s wrists burned where they were once more bound, but thankfully with rope rather than metal. They kept his hands close, keeping him from using them for anything aside from occasionally supporting himself when he tried to stand. Thankfully, he was being allowed to save his strength for the journey home, stuffed into the back of a tiny cart while he was hauled across the desert, back to where he and Aneta had been picked up.

They pulled him out of the cart at the spring, leaving him tied, assuming he’d find away to free himself once they were long gone. Their things were still there; armor, bows, packs. They had suffered in the attack, and when he was once more abandoned, Kiln had a hard time collecting everything back together. He abandoned his Carja armor for his own, frowning at just how loosely it hung on him now. His knife was not far, and he used it to split the ropes from his wrists.

Almost reverently, he gathered Aneta’s pack together, shouldering it with his own. She’d need it later, of course. He paused only briefly to wash the past few days from himself, leaving the spring’s crystal clear water tinged with red. Shouldering their bows, he gave the spring one last glance before heading east, towards Meridian.

 

He had to camp early, when his leg told him it wasn’t going to make it much farther. The Shadow Carja, for whatever reason, had released him, but he’d probably have pain in that thigh forever. A constant reminder. He didn’t want to camp. The sooner he’d make it back to Meridian, the sooner he could bring the wrath of the Vanguard down upon Sahl and his men. But he had no choice. 

When he got a fire going, he attempted to restitch his leg, but soon he was beginning to realise it was a hopeless cause. So instead, he packed it with the herbs he had and wrapped it tight, knowing he would need some serious help when he got back to Meridian. He would need to be in top form to come back for Aneta.

The bedroll he set out on the sand had never been so comfortable. It drew him down into a fitful sleep but his mind in turmoil. He knew a fever was setting in, but it was Aneta who disturbed his dreams.

* * *

 

Aneta, meanwhile, could not sleep, not matter how hard she tried to calm her breathing and let herself drift off into unconsciousness. She shifted around her room, which was far larger than anything she should have ever needed. The bed at the center was too big, the wardrobe had too many clothes - that weren’t hers and would never fit- the fireplace was too ornate, and the sitting area made it feel like its own apartment. All she was missing was a kitchen area and she’d be ready to be a full time prisoner.

The accompanying balcony was her only solace, where the night’s sky met her with a all of its sparkling glory. She leaned against the railing as she stared up at the stars, her chest aching. She wasn’t sure what hurt more; the fact that she was a traitor to the very people who had become her family during the past few months, or the fact that she was now a symbol for a cause she had once disagreed with.

Betraying Kiln had been painful, but she hardly knew the man. Only a week. She may have built a connection with him and she may have liked him romantically, yet things changed all the time. She had to accept that, even if it made her want to collapse into a heap of tears.

Rubbing at her eyes, she sighed loudly.

“Why do you cry?”

She startled at the voice, the metallic sound of it. It hung within her head like a plague, eating away at her thoughts, invading. It was the most horrible thing she had heard with her own ears, worse than the loudest wails of torture.

“It’s a normal human reaction,” she croaked.

“Why?”

Aneta sank down to the ground, pressing her back against the balcony railing as she wrapped her arms around her knees. “Why am I crying or why is it a human reaction?”

There was no hesitations in his replies, as if he were already calculating the next thing before she had a chance to speak. “Both. Clarify.”

She swallowed hard, letting her eyes flutter shut. This was the Buried Shadow speaking to her, asking her questions that should have been so easily known. Did he truly not understand? Was he so inhuman that the concept of human emotion was foreign? Perhaps that was why Helis and her father had been so… well, like machines.

“I am hurting.”

“No physical impairments detected. Define.”

Aneta had to stop herself from sighing, instead holding the breath within her chest as she tightened her arms around her knees. “I am trapped against my will and will be used as your next martyr. I had to say goodbye to a friend I cared about. Someone I hoped to have a relationship with. Everything is changing very fast and it is overwhelming.”

“Heart rate increase detected.”

She gave a dull laugh. “Yeah, that happens when you get worked up. Like I said, I’m hurting.” Pausing for a moment, she waited for him to respond, yet she was met with silence. “Why do you care?”

“‘ _ Caring _ ’ is incorrect. Observing.”

She found herself smiling at that, a bit of bitter humor. This historical, celestial, being was ‘observing’ her as if she were an animal on display. Maybe she was. The thought was funny enough. She  _ was _ trapped, after all.

“Why do you talk like that? You’re so… odd.” She opened her eyes, turning them to the sky. “You sound like how I imagine the machines would, if they could talk.”

This time he took longer to answer and she wondered if he had left, leaving her with only the stars and the chilly wind of spring, which brushed her hair against her cheeks. She could hear the flags above her flapping restlessly, a constant sound that almost put her at ease.

“I was programed this way.”

It was the first time she had heard him use a possessive pronoun, making him sound more human than anything else he had said so far. She felt the ache in her chest lessen. Perhaps she wasn’t speaking to a completely emotionless being.

Yet his words intrigued her.  _ Programed. _ She wasn’t sure she completely understood the term. Wasn’t that a term for machines?

She worried that she might not get her answers if she questioned him now. “I still think you’re odd.”

“Noted.”

She rest her cheek against her arms, giving a weak chuckle. Maybe she could make herself sleep after all, even if it weren’t on a bed. That was far too comfortable and she knew Kiln would not have the same comforts.

There she slept, against the balcony railing, her head resting against her arms and knees while dreams of celestial voices and farewell kisses filled her mind.

* * *

 

It was late in the day when Kiln awoke from his much needed sleep. His head throbbed, but he was smart enough to have filled his canteen at the spring. He nibbled at some of the jerky he still had in his pack, broke camp, and set off. He found it easier to walk with a study stick to take his weight, and wondered if he’d need a cane from now on. He would never hear the end of the geezer jokes, despite being one of the younger men in the Vanguard.

By the time Meridian appeared in the distance the sand had given way to thick foliage. The guards at the West Gate were...concerned.. To say the least, about his appearance. They offered to get a cart before Kiln told them exactly what they could do with it. So instead, the man got an escort directly to the barracks.

Erend was already there, having been informed of Kiln’s return, standing and rushing over to the other Vanguard the moment he stepped onto barracks grounds. The Captain barked orders, fetching the healer, food, water and fresh clothes while Kiln plopped down on one of the benches.

“What happened?” Erend was demanding of him as the healer inspected Kiln’s wounds, tutting at their treatment. 

Kiln finished off what had to be his third canteen of water. “Eclipse. The place is crawling with them again. They got the scout party.” He leveled his eyes at his Captain. “We need to go back for Aneta.”

He told the Captain everything. He didn’t hold back details, even the distraction he’d faced at the spring that caused them to be captured in the first place. He spoke of Sahl, described who he could and how many he thought there were.

Erend took it all in with a stern expression, and when the healer was finished, dismissed the others from the room. He leaned forward, scowling at the younger man. “Sounded like a trap from the beginning, Kiln,” he said carefully, reaching out to press his hand on the other man’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Sorry about Aneta. She had so much potential.”

“‘Has’,” the blonde corrected him. “She’s not dead yet.”

Erend sat back, his expression uneasy. “We can talk about this later. You need to get some rest.” 

Kiln growled in frustration, slamming a fist on the table. “She’s still  _ there _ . We have to go back now, we can’t just let her…”

“That’s an order Kiln. I’ll get some of the others together and meet with Avad… we’ll decide how we’re going to proceed from here.” The bigger man stood, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “From now on, there’s no need for you to be part of this. Get some rest. I’ll stop by if I need more information.”

Kiln cursed his Captain as he walked out, leaving him alone once more in the barracks. He gathered his things together and headed to his house, committed to preparing for his own journey. The men he met along the way greeted him with the usual welcome home, but he ignored them. He’d apologize later. 

His home felt odd, as if he hadn’t been within it for years, let alone only about a week. He peeled off his armor and washed thoroughly, for the first time able to clean his wounds. He tried to ignore his bed as he began packing for the West, but soon he found himself slowing, having trouble remembering where things were. 

Perhaps just a minute… he thought, setting his pack aside. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d stolen a nap during the middle of the day. It was then that he realized it wasn’t his pack in his hands at all, but Aneta’s. For a moment he fingered one of the straps in his hand. “Hang in there, girl, we’re coming,” he promised. 

The bed welcomed him like an old friend, and the minute nap was no longer looking to be a reality. The Vanguard’s eyes closed as he splayed facedown on the mattress, finally home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on chapter 30 right now and it feels so weird going back and seeing these chapters. It feels like ages ago. - Emy


End file.
